Cutting Corners
by haleigh.l
Summary: When Steph breaks up with Joe, she has to decide if she'll wait for Ranger to step up, or simply move on. Joe friendly, but there will definitely be a Babe happy ending.
1. Chapter 1

_This is a new story, and probably pretty angsty. But if you stick with me, I promise there'll be a happy ending. A lot of this will be motivated by reviews – so keep telling me what you think and where it should go._

_Rating for language_

_I don't own them, make no profit, etc…_

…

"I'm not in love with you."

Her head popped up. Joe looked as surprised as she felt. "What did you just say?" she said.

Joe blinked at her for a second. "I, uh, just realized – I'm not in love with you."

Steph looked at the TV, then back at Joe. "And the fact that the Mets are losing made you realize that?"

Joe laughed, a soft, embarrassed sound. "Uh no. I was just thinking and I realized—"

"That you don't love me after all," she said. She was trying to speak casually, to belie the way her heart was pounding and her hands were starting to sweat. But instead, it came out bitter, hurt.

"No. It's not that. I love you – I have for a long time, and probably always will. I just don't think that I'm _in_ love with you." He stopped and frowned. "Is there a difference?"

She stared at him for a moment before taking a deep breath. "Unfortunately, yes. There's a very big difference." She drained her beer and looked back at the TV, having absolutely no response in this absurd conversation. She took another breath to stay calm and rubbed her clammy hands over her jeans.

"I'm just realizing," Joe said, "that we want different things out of life. I really want to settle down, have a family. And you'd be a terrible person to settle down with."

She had to take a shallow breath to stay calm when his words hit her. "What?"

"Wait," Joe said. "That didn't come out right. What I meant was that you don't want to settle down. And forcing you to do so wouldn't make either of us happy."

Steph leaned back and closed her eyes. She knew, deep down, that he was right, but there was no way she was letting go of this relationship without a fight. If she had stopped to think rationally, really examined her feelings, she'd know that her desire to hang on to Joe was more about having a safety net than a relationship. But at the time, at that moment, all she knew was that his words hurt.

"I thought it had been working okay," she said.

"Don't get me wrong, Cupcake, but I don't think we can describe our relationship as working. I mean, we're barely a couple. We're more like—"

"Fuck buddies?" she said.

Joe cringed. "I'd like to think we're more than that."

"So would I," she said. Though they both knew that they weren't.

"What about you," Joe said after a few minutes. "Are you in love with me?"

She closed her eyes before shaking her head. Joe didn't respond.

A few more awkward, silent minutes passed. "What brought all this on?" she said.

"I was thinking about something Ranger said yesterday."

"What? When did you talk to Ranger? What about?"

"I confronted him about the underwear."

"What underwear?" she said, even though the sinking feeling in her stomach meant that she probably knew exactly which pair of underwear he was talking about.

Joe rolled his eyes.

"So, what?" she said, her voice rising along with her defensiveness over the boy's little conversation behind her back. "You're breaking up with me because of a conversation you had with Ranger?"

Joe's eyes widened. "Is that what I'm doing? Are we breaking up?"

"Where exactly did you think this conversation would go?"

"I didn't exactly think it through that far."

"I gotta get out of here," she said, standing up. She started to walk past him, but he yanked on her arm, pulling her down into his lap.

"Hey," he said, kissing her on the forehead. She squeezed her eyes shut tight. "I know I told you I'd wait for you to be ready for a family, but…"

"But if you did that, you'd have to wait forever," she said. She looked up at him. He didn't look heartbroken, and she knew she didn't either. Maybe her heart had cracked a bit, but it wasn't broken.

"I'll never want a Burg life," she said. "And you always will."

"Yeah." He leaned down and kissed her.

The heady sensations that always came from one of his kisses warred with the pain in her chest. But the normal sensations shifted this time by vocalization of their feelings. She pulled him closer, not yet ready to walk away from something that had been so familiar for so many years.

"I love you anyway," he said with his lips still almost brushing hers.

"I know," she whispered.

He leaned back and poked her in the ribs. "Come on," he said. "You can at least say it now."

She smiled at him and tried to ignore the pain in her chest, because she knew that in spite of what her heart was telling her, her head was right. It was time to let this go.

She stuck her nose up in the air. "I like you too."

He laughed. "Good." He leaned forward to kiss her again. Shifting her on his lap, he got his hands under her shirt.

She pulled back from his kiss long enough to ask, "So we're definitely broken up?"

"Uh huh," he said, in between more kisses.

"Forever and ever broken up?"

"Uh huh."

"We both seem awfully happy about that fact."

He was still kissing her. "Guess it wasn't true love after all."

By then he had her bra off and her jeans unbuttoned. Her pain was quickly being replaced by desire, allowing her to laugh and enjoy his single-mindedness. "Guess not," she said. "So what exactly are we doing here?"

He leaned back to look at her, his face entirely serious, like he couldn't believe she even had to ask. "Break-up sex."

Oh, right. Why hadn't she thought of that? She grinned and kissed him again. "God, you're such a guy."

He gave her the same smile that had had her going weak in the knees for fourteen years. "And you're about to be a very happy woman."

"I'm going to miss this," she said.

"That's okay," Joe said as he got her jeans all the way off. "We can still have broken-up sex, and congratulatory sex, and rough-day sex…"

"You have this all planned out, don't you?"

"This part? Yes, I definitely have this part planned out." He proceeded to whisper exactly what his plans were, until she was squirming underneath him.

But the silliness faded as they both realized it would probably be the last time. She clung to him, and afterwards they cuddled together on the couch, something neither of them usually bothered with.

Joe threaded his fingers through her hair. "I'm going to miss this too."

She looked up at him. "We'll still be friends, right? I kinda like having you around, even if you lecture me."

"If you'd be safer, I wouldn't have to lecture you."

"I'm perfectly capable of tak—"

He cut her off by kissing her again. "This is why we're broken up."

She grinned. "Oh yeah. I forgot already."

He studied her for a minute, taking in her face. "I do love you, Steph."

"I know. I love you too."

"See!" he said, the moment broken. "It's not that hard."

She rolled her eyes and pushed at his shoulders, getting up off the couch. "I should get home." She looked around, and found her jeans sticking out from under the couch.

"You can stay here tonight," he said with the same damn smile that had gotten her into trouble more times than she could count.

"Nope. You dumped me – that means you have to sleep alone tonight."

"I did not _dump_ you," he said.

She got the rest of her clothes on. "Regardless, you're still sleeping alone."

She headed out the door, but stuck her head back in. "I'll see you soon, right?"

"Yeah. We'll get Pino's and watch a game."

She grinned at him and then walked to her car. Just as she got in, Joe threw open the house door. She rolled down the window. "What?"

"You're sleeping alone tonight too, right?"

She gave him the finger.

"Just like old times," he said.

…

Ranger was sitting on her couch when she walked into the apartment. Normally, he loved Steph's expressiveness. But not for the first time, he wished he couldn't see that tell-tale flush, the intimate little smile…

"Nice evening?" he said.

She dropped her purse on the floor. "Actually, no."

He gave her a disbelieving stare, but she ignored it.

"What exactly did you say to Joe yesterday?" she said.

"About what?"

It was her turn to give a disbelieving stare. "Come on, Ranger. It was bad enough for Joe to dump me. Surely you remember."

He stared at her, trying to find someway to respond. He didn't believe for a second that they were over, really over. The cop hadn't even seemed upset yesterday. And she certainly didn't look upset now.

But she was waiting for him to respond, and was starting to look plenty pissed off at him. He didn't want to have this conversation. He'd had the day from hell and this was not the way he wanted to end it. He stood up and walked toward her.

"He showed me the black panties. I told him Ella had been having fun with her machine."

"That's it?" she said.

"He wanted to know why I was buying you underwear at all. I explained that Ella had standing orders to buy you whatever you need."

She tilted her head to the side. "I don't get it."

He shrugged one shoulder.

"You didn't say anything else?"

He debated the merits of answering, but he had never lied to her before, and didn't want to start now. "I might have said that if he were sure you were in love with him, he wouldn't care about a pair of underwear my housekeeper bought."

She sighed and plopped down on the couch. "That would have done it."

"I have a job for you if you're interested."

She blinked at his change of subject, but he wasn't about to continue talking about her fight with her boyfriend.

"Oh yeah," she said. "Sure. I didn't even ask you why you're here. Sorry." She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

He studied her for a moment. He was going to have to discuss this. Why did he always have to be the one to clean up the cop's mess? He tamped down on faint stirrings of anger and sat down beside her. "You okay, babe?"

She answered without opening her eyes. "He's apparently no longer in love with me."

"He figured this out before or after he fucked you?"

Her head popped up and she stared at him.

Shit. He took a shallow breath. "Sorry."

Her eyes opened wider. "What's with you tonight?"

He ran his hands over his face before speaking. "Two take downs went wrong. I've got one man in the hospital and one scumbag still on the street."

She leaned forward and put a hand on his arm. "Who? Is he okay?"

"It's Hal, and he'll be fine. Just a concussion. It just took him longer to wake up than I was comfortable with. He'll be released in the morning."

"Should we go visit him? Do you want me to go with you?"

He reached over and pulled her across the couch onto his lap. Just that was enough to restore his control and equilibrium. He tightened his arms around her and smiled into her hair. "I was there most of the evening. He has people staying with him. He'll be fine. But thanks."

She nodded and curled further into his chest.

He rubbed her arms and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "What about you, babe? Are you going to be okay?"

She nodded again.

"I didn't think what I said would cause a problem," he said. "I'm sure you two can work it out."

She shook her head, but didn't say anything else. Thank god. As much as he was always willing to make her feel better, he wasn't sure he could stand to hear the details of their evening.

She sat up and smiled at him. "You want some food or something to drink or watch TV or something?"

What he needed was to get out of there before he did something stupid. "I should probably get back to work. The cops are gonna want paperwork from this morning."

She nodded, trying to hide her disappointment and failing. "Okay."

He stood, lifting her off his lap as he did. He set her on her feet and brushed a kiss across her forehead. "I'll see you later."

"What was the job?" she said.

Shit. He needed sleep. "Right. A distraction, Friday night."

"Sure. Nothing better to do."

He tugged on a curl. "You two will work it out." He turned toward the door and was halfway there before he heard her quiet words.

"What if I don't want to work it out?"

He turned back and stared at her. He knew what she was asking, but he also knew he couldn't give her what she wanted. He took a step toward her, reaching for her. One arm he hooked behind her head, pulling her until they were flush against each other. The other arm he used to just hold her for a moment as he rested his forehead against hers.

Then he said the only thing that he could. "You will. You should."

He didn't look at her, knowing his words had hurt her, and instead turned and walked out before the instincts screaming at him to stay made him change his mind.

…

_I love reviews – they make me write faster (hint, hint) Thanks for reading, let me know what you thought!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks for all so much for the reviews on the first chapter! I tried to reply to the all, but if I missed you, thank you. It means a lot to me to know that people enjoyed it._

_And again, keep telling me what you think and where you think it should go._

_Rated M for language_

_I don't own them, make no profit, etc…_

…

Two nights later, Steph was getting ready for the distraction job. She hadn't seen Ranger since he had so abruptly left her apartment. She had tried to avoid thinking about him, since doing so just made her heart ache. But as it turned out, keeping Batman out of her thoughts was harder than she expected.

She had, however, seen Joe.

She had been dragging a skip into the station, and had been covered head to toe in something. She still wasn't sure what, and had no intention of ever finding out.

He had walked up to her in the booking area, glanced her up and down, and cracked up laughing.

"I am so glad I dumped you," he said, still laughing.

Steph narrowed her eyes. Joe's head was down, giving her the element of surprise. Using both arms, she launched herself onto him, hugging him for all she was worth. "Oh baby I've missed you so much. Are you sure you won't take me back?"

"Hey!" Joe yelled. He stepped back, trying to get away from her, but she held on tight, in the process rubbing more of whatever was covering her onto his clothes. "Come on, Steph!"

Without letting go, she said, "Are you done laughing at me?"

"Yes! For the love of god," he said. He got one arm free and used it to pry both of hers off of him. Since he was stronger, she was forced to relent.

Joe looked down at himself and gave a disgusted sigh. "This is because I made fun of you, isn't it?"

"You think?"

"If it helps, I'm sorry."

She gave him a cheeky grin. "You're forgiven."

He looked down at his shirt again, now covered with stains of various colors and sizes. "Yeah, I see that." Then he looked back up at her. "You don't really want to get back together do you?"

She rolled her eyes. "God no. But just because we split up doesn't give you free reign to mock me. Keep that in mind."

"Fine. So are you at least going to come help me clean up?" he said.

"You're on your own with that one, _Cupcake_," she said. "But good luck." With another cheeky grin, she had headed for her car and a shower, alone.

Now that she was clean, she had less than thirty minutes to finish getting ready for this distraction job for Ranger.

She was putting on a fourth coat of mascara when she heard the locks tumble open. She sucked in a breath, and in the process, smeared the mascara down her check.

She cursed under her breath and grabbed a tissue to blot it clean. "Hey," she yelled to Ranger. "Give me two minutes." She lifted the tissue to her cheek with a shaky hand.

She had to get herself together. What did it matter if Ranger had all but told her to go back to Joe? It wasn't like she had been expected a big romantic proposal the second he found out she was single.

But she hadn't expected his immediate rejection, either. She was disappointed and hurt, and her nerves were a wreck trying to figure out how to act around him now. Should she act like she didn't care? Beg him to give them a shot? Jump on him? She didn't have any idea and she felt a little sick trying to figure it out.

Hence the mascara streaked down her face.

She finished cleaning it off, gave herself a quick glance-over, and a with a final breath for courage stepped out into the living room.

…

"Fuck," Ranger said. He looked her up and down: the short skirt, the knee-high boots, the slinky top that showed off everything that he knew was under it.

She gave a nervous smile. "I look good?"

"He won't last more than a minute," he said, praying he was talking about the skip and not himself. He pulled the mic from his pocket and stepped toward her, eyeing the low cut shirt and trying to figure out how he could get the mic in there without actually touching her.

Because if he touched her, he wasn't going to stop.

He stared down at her, standing a little too close. She stared back, and the moment stretched between them, growing into something else. He could hear her breathing change, get a little deeper, hitch here and there. Her pupils dilated and a flush stained her cheeks. He watched the rise and fall of her chest and saw her nipples harden and strain against the thin silk shirt.

"Fuck," he said under his breath. He plunged his hand into the neck of her shirt and taped down the wire as fast as he could.

His hazy mind registered how soft and cool her skin felt against his rough knuckles. The second thing he noticed was that she had stopped breathing entirely. He dragged his eyes up from where his hands were still lingering under her shirt to her eyes. She was staring back at him with those blue eyes so full of trust and desire and nerves that his head lowered and his lips touched hers completely of their own volition.

When her soft sigh hit his ears, he pulled her closer, kissed her deeper. She had both hands curled into his shirt and the way her hips were pushing against his had him on the verge of losing his mind.

But the shrill of his cell phone pulled his mind back to the present before it could get too far lost.

He let go of Steph and took a step backwards. His heart was pounding and he was surprised to find himself actually short of breath. She looked like she was in an even worse state.

Without breaking eye contact, he pulled the phone off his hip. "Talk."

"We're all in place. Where are you two?" Tank said.

"We're leaving now. Be there in ten." He hung up and replaced his phone.

He stared at her for another second, trying to get his control back. He had a job to focus on, and he needed to be able to. But the way Steph was looking at him, like she was a split second from coming and if he so much as reached up and touched her swollen lip…

"Fuck." He dropped his head, trying to calm down.

"So far tonight," she said, her voice low and husky with desire, "that's all you've said."

"It's all I can think about."

"You and me both."

His head shot up to stare at her, but she had closed her eyes. She was leaning against the wall, her breathing ragged. They way her head was resting on the wall exposed her creamy neck and throat, just begging to be kissed and…

"We have to get out of here." He grabbed her arm and pulled her to the door. "You got everything you need?"

"Uh, yeah," she said. But by then they were already to the parking lot so it was a good damn thing that she did.

…

"I'll make your night, big boy."

Ranger stifled a smile as Steph's fake husky voice filtered through his ear piece. The skip, McKinney, was being reeled in at record speed. Which was good, because this guy was a bad one. Violent – liked women and liked to play games with them that usually ended in the ICU. Or the morgue.

"I like this top," the skip said. Ranger could just imagine McKinney running his finger along the low-cut neckline, leering and blowing his tequila-laced breath.

Then he heard the sleaze whisper, "I'd really like to see what's under that top."

He had a flash of wanting to go in and get Steph. These distraction jobs didn't usually bother him, but tonight, for some reason, he wanted her out of there.

Usually, when his gut told him a job had gone wrong, he called it off. His instincts were so well honed that he trusted them as much as the men on his team. Tonight, though, he wasn't sure if there was actually something wrong, or if he were just being overprotective of Steph. There was something about the vulnerability in her eyes earlier that was fucking with his head.

He spoke into his mic to Lester, who was inside playing pool, trying to blend in. "How does it look in there?"

"Progressing like normal," Lester said. "She's cozied up to him at the bar."

"No sign of any threats out here," Bobby said from where he was patrolling the exterior.

"Okay," Ranger said, chalking up the sick feeling to nerves. "Sounds like she's about to wrap this up. Watch this guy close."

He could hear Steph in his mic, telling McKinney that she wanted some air.

"You okay?" Tank asked.

Ranger looked at him across the cab of the dark truck. "Fine. Let's do this."

They both climbed out the truck, one standing on each side of the bar's front door.

"Come on," they heard Steph say. "Walk me out?"

Ranger heard rustling as Steph stood up and moved her bar stool. He could hear footsteps.

But instead of the bar's front door opening, he heard a faint whimper from Steph and then an interior door slam shut.

"Southwest hallway. He pulled her into a supply closet," Lester said from inside.

But Ranger didn't hear Lester's words. All he could hear was Steph's whimper, which deepened into a scream. He heard a ripping sound that he knew was her shirt. As she screamed again, his blood froze in his veins. His vision narrowed to pinpoints and every sound but hers was enveloped in a fog. His arms wouldn't move, his legs wouldn't walk, and for what felt like hours, all he could do was listen to her scream.

"Everyone in, southwest side. Go!" Tank barked into his mic.

And like the snap of hypnotist's fingers, Tank's words galvanized Ranger into action. In less than three seconds, he was standing at the closed closet door, gun drawn. His boot went through the door and then he was on top of McKinney, his knee pressing into the skip's neck.

He could hear a commotion behind him, hear people asking her if she was okay. He didn't draw a breath until he heard her say, "I'm okay, Bobby. Jeez, I'm fine. Keep your hands to yourself."

He lifted his knee enough to loosen some of the pressure, but didn't take his eyes off McKinney. He felt a small hand on his shoulder. Steph leaned down to speak to him, close enough that the guys wouldn't overhear. "I'm fine, Ranger. Let him go."

He still didn't move. Even with the pressure lessened, McKinney's face was starting to look a little blue around the edges. He could hear the guys shifting nervously behind him.

Steph leaned closer, so that her body was glancing across his back and her lips were nearly brushing his ear. She threaded her fingers through his hair at the back of his neck. "Let one of the guys take care of him. I need you with me."

This time, her words filtered through his anger enough to let him rise to his feet. Tank grabbed McKinney and pulled him up off the floor. He got him cuffed and pushed him out the door.

He glanced around at the guys, but they were moving around, cleaning up the mess they had made of the supply closet, heading back out to the trucks.

None of them seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary.

He raised his eyes to Steph's. She had noticed.

He turned and walked out. Going out the back door, he walked around the bar to where his truck was parked in the front. He could hear sirens getting closer and groaned. Tank was still in the lot, the skip loaded into Bobby's truck. They were waiting, since the cops were already on their way.

"Hey," Steph said behind him.

He turned to face her, really looking at her for the first time. Her jaw had the faint markings of a bruise about to develop, and her shirt was ripped almost to the waist. He looked closer and saw a thick red line across the left side of her neck.

He flexed his hands and tried to control his voice. "Did he choke you?"

"He tried to." She reached up and rubbed her throat. "But he didn't make it very far. I'm fine. I need a jacket or something."

He should be comforting her. Holding her. Something. But he was to angry right now to do any of that, mostly angry with himself. Angry because he hadn't protected her but wanting to so badly had made them both vulnerable.

He pulled the car keys out of his pocket and managed to hand them to her without actually touching her hand. "There's one in the truck. Wait there for me."

She stared at him for a beat, disappointment marring every feature, before she simply walked toward the truck. He could hear the door open and shut behind him but he didn't turn around. He heard the faint rustlings of her pulling on his windbreaker.

He cursed himself under his breath, turned, and marched toward her. Before he could even think about what he was doing, he grabbed her and pulled her against him, wrapping both arms tight around her.

"Are you okay?"

She sniffled a bit. "I am now," she whispered.

He tightened his hold and cursed himself in his head. He should have been holding her from the beginning, instead of making her feel worse. Then again, if he had managed to keep a handle of his emotions, this whole thing would have gone differently.

He should have never kissed her at her apartment earlier.

He finally let go of her. "I need to talk to Tank, then I'll take you home. Wait here for me."

She nodded and gave him a shaky smile.

…

Steph was waiting by the truck when Hal walked past her. She yelled his name to get his attention. "How are you feeling?" she said when he was close enough.

"Just fine. It was no big deal. I didn't need to go to the hospital."

Steph grinned. "I hate the hospital too. But I'm glad you're okay, big guy."

Hal's cheeks turned a bit pink at the edges. "Thank you, Ms. Plum."

Steph rolled her eyes. "It's Steph, or Bombshell if you have to. Call me Ms. Plum and I'll stun you again."

He ducked his head and smiled. "Okay Ms. P—Steph. I'll see you later."

Hal wandered away and Steph leaned back against the truck. She hoped Ranger was hurrying, because she need a shower. Desperately. Creepy freakin skip. Maybe that's why Ranger had been so careful not to touch her. She shivered and pulled his jacket tighter around her. His odd behavior had her earlier nervousness sneaking back in. Something had made him not want to be near her, and she had a suspicion that she wasn't going to like whatever it was.

…

"She okay?" Tank said.

"Yeah, she'll be fine," Ranger said. He stopped and scrubbed his hands over his face. "I froze, man."

Tank glanced at him. "When?"

"When she screamed. I froze."

"What are you talking about? You were the first one in there."

"Yeah, but when she screamed, all I could do was stand there. You had to send everyone in."

Tank shrugged. "That's only cause I said it first. The guys are used to both of us giving orders. Nobody cared."

Ranger shook his head. That wasn't the point. The point was that Steph needed him, because of a situation he had put her in, and he wasn't there for her. He had let his emotions get in the way and she had gotten hurt.

"Do you love Lula?" he said.

Tank's head whipped around and he stared at Ranger. "What?"

"Do you love her?"

"Are we really going to talk about this?"

"Just humor me."

"Okay then," Tank said. "Yeah, I guess."

"And you'd protect her, right? No matter what?"

"Of course. Why? Do you, uh, love the Bombshe— Fuck, I can't do this, man." He ran his hands over his bald head and grumbled something under his breath. "Next time you decide to have an emotional meltdown, send me a memo so I know to call in sick."

He walked away, still grumbling and shaking his head.

"It wasn't a meltdown," Ranger said, but he was talking to himself. But maybe it was. Or as close to one as a man like him could get. He certainly felt like he was melting down.

He turned back toward Steph. The cops had arrived en masse, with lights flashing and sirens blaring. Morelli was standing with Steph, and had both arms around her. Some perverse instinct made him watch them for a minute.

For the past couple days, he'd been trying to forget that they had broken up. It complicated his life. And right now, they looked pretty cozy. Maybe if he found a way to get them back together, he'd get control back over his own life. Or maybe they'd get back together on their own.

As he walked toward them, the only thing he could think was that he should have never kissed her.

…

"I'm fine, Joe," she said for the fourth time.

He used his fingertips to lift her chin. He studied the bruise for a minute. "Does your throat hurt? On the inside, I mean. Did it feel like he crushed anything? There could be internal damage—"

"I'm fine, Joe."

He glanced her over again, head to toe, before nodding. "Okay. I believe you."

"I thought you were going to stop flipping out and drinking Maalox."

"This _is_ me not flipping out. I haven't yelled yet. No arm waving, and no Maalox in sight."

Steph smiled. "I do appreciate the concern, but it's not that big of a deal. I wasn't in there more than a few seconds before Ranger rescued me."

"He does that a lot."

She smiled. "It's what he does."

"I'm glad someone is around to do it, even if I still think he's nuts."

Steph nodded distractedly and watched Ranger across the parking lot. She wished she knew what was going on in his head.

"You need a ride home?" Joe said.

She shook her head. "I want to wait for Ranger."

"Let Robin take some pictures before you go, so we have them if we add on assault charges. It could be helpful at trial."

"Okay," she said. But she was watching Ranger again, who was heading toward them. She had a sick feeling in her stomach waiting for him to reach them.

Joe nodded at him when he got there. Ranger nodded back.

Joe leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I'll see you later, Cupcake. I owe you pizza. And make sure you put some ice on those bruises."

He put one hand on her back and pushed her toward Ranger. "Take better care of her, will you?" he said to Ranger. "I can only handle so much of this."

…

"What was Morelli talking about?" Ranger said when they were in the truck on the way back to her apartment.

Steph shrugged. "Apparently it's your turn to watch out for me."

"You two going to be able to work it out?"

She rolled her eyes.

He pulled into her lot and put the truck in park, but didn't turn it off. He didn't trust himself for a second to go up there with her.

"You coming up?" she said.

"I should go back. Paperwork. All that."

She nodded like she didn't believe him, but didn't say anything.

"He can't still be mad about what I said. I'm sure the two of you can fix this," he said.

"You're not listening to me. I don't want to be with Morelli, I want—"

"Stephanie," he said, cutting her off. "Don't go there."

She stared at him with hurt eyes until he was forced to look away. "My life—"

"I know," she said. "No relationships. Believe me, I know."

"Morelli's a good man, Steph. He can give you a lot."

She stared out the windshield for a minute. "You're not even going to give this a chance, are you?"

He studied her profile. Part of him wanted to. Plunge in a take a risk. But his lifestyle aside, he'd never been good at relationships. He could never handle being accountable to someone. Or the vulnerability that real relationships required. Then there was the safety issue. Tonight was a prime example of that. If by some miracle he didn't get her killed, he'd break her heart. Inadvertently, but still.

She turned to him, waiting on an answer.

He swallowed hard. "It's better this way, Steph."

She pursed her lips and looked up at the ceiling of the car. Finally, she nodded and got out. He was just going to wait until her apartment light came on, but found himself sitting there, watching her apartment while she got ready for bed. When all the lights went out, he put the truck back in gear and drove home.

…

_Please let me know what you think! Or if you have any comments about what should happen next :) Thanks for reading!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks for all the reviews for chapter 2 - if I didn't respond to you personally, know that I truley appreciate the time it takes to both read and review_

_Rating for language _

_ They're not mine, I make no profit, etc._

* * *

Steph's eyebrows shot to her hairline. "You want me to what?"

"Just go out with this guy. He's nice," Connie said. "His name is Jonathan, he's an ophthalmologist."

"A what?" Lula said.

"You know, an eye doctor."

"Ohh." Lula nodded at Connie before turning to Steph. "You sure you want to go out with someone who sticks his fingers in people's eyes for a living?"

Steph plopped down on the sofa in the bond's office. She didn't want to go out with anyone, regardless of where his fingers went. She wanted Ranger. And he, obviously, didn't want her.

It had been two weeks since the distraction job that had gone so wrong. She still didn't know what had happened to upset him so much. They had gotten the guy, but something about it had really affected Ranger. As much as she could tell that he was affected by anything, that is.

But the three times she had seen him since, he had simply nodded and smiled, asked her if she needed any help with skips, and then walked away. And each time he did, he took another little piece of her with him.

"Come on, Steph," Connie said. "Just give him a shot."

"Sure," she said. "Whatever."

…

She let herself into Joe's house with the key she still had. She had the pizza and he had the beer. Actually, if you took the lack of sex out of the equation, their relationship was exactly the same as it had been before they broke up. Which said some tragic things about their relationship.

"Hey," she called out. "I have pizza."

"Hey," Joe said without ever moving his eyes from the TV. "Rangers are down by one."

She sat down beside him and grabbed a beer. "How was your date last night?"

Joe waved a hand but didn't look away form the game. "She was too uptight."

"For you?"

He turned and glared at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, birds of a feather and all that."

Joe rolled his eyes and looked back at the TV. "I'm not _that_ uptight. She kept sending me to the bathroom to wash my hands. And each time I came back, she asked if I used soap. She actually wanted to smell my hands one time."

Steph coughed and tried not to snort her beer. "Wow. I told you to stay away from kindergarten teachers. You need a high school teacher. Now that would be a woman who couldn't possibly be uptight."

"You obviously have biased memories of high school."

Steph thought back for a minute. "Okay. Maybe you should avoid teachers entirely. How about nurses?"

"They're probably picky about soap too. Besides, I don't know why you're so anxious to get me a girlfriend. You still bring me food and do my laundry. And I could probably sweet talk you back into bed."

"You can _so _not get me back into bed."

Joe looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "Wanna bet?"

She rolled her eyes. "_No_. And I'm not doing your laundry. I just brought you back the clothes you had at my apartment."

"Yeah, but it was all clean and ironed and folded."

"That was my mother! Do you really think I would iron your underwear?"

He shrugged one shoulder, his eyes still following the hockey puck around the screen. "I didn't ask any questions about where it came from. I just put in on."

"You're such a guy."

He turned to her and waggled his eyebrows. "Want me to prove it?"

"This is why you need a girlfriend. So you'll stop coming on to me."

He grabbed another piece of pizza. "Here. Eat this before you get all huffy. Watch the game."

She shook her head at him before taking the pizza and settling back on the couch. It was funny. She missed her relationship with Joe, but not much. Joe hadn't broken her heart. Ranger had managed to do that all by himself, with the subtle rejections over the past weeks.

But more than she wanted to bash Ranger over the head for refusing to even give them a chance, she wanted their friendship back. She wanted to go back to the easy way they interacted, the way their time together brightened up her entire day, rather than making her feel like she had gotten kicked in the gut all over again.

She wanted her best friend back, but had no idea how to accomplish that.

"You okay, Steph?"

She blinked and looked over at Joe. "Yeah. Fine."

He frowned at her, but thankfully let it go.

…

"Okay, Steph," Connie said as soon as she walked in the next morning. "Tonight at Rossini's. Eight o'clock. Meet him there."

"What?"

Connie rolled her eyes. "Jonathan. The date tonight."

"Oh." Steph sank down on the couch. She had forgotten about that. "Sure. Eight."

"I still don't like this plan," Lula said. "I think this is one of them 'flawed plans' that Tank is always talking about."

"It's a good plan," Connie said. "She's got to start dating again. Joe went out with some schoolteacher the other night. She has to go out with someone now, or people will start saying that Joe was her last chance and now no one wants her."

Steph rolled her eyes. "Gee, thanks."

"Hey, I'm just trying to help you avoid grapevine hell."

"Well I can get on board with that," Lula said. "We don't want no one feeling sorry for our girl. But we need her to go out with Batman, not some freaky eye-guy."

"He's not freaky!"

Steph rolled her eyes again and tried to ignore Lula's remark about Ranger. "Is this seriously what you two do? Analyze my love life?"

"Hey," Connie said. "I gotta analyze someone's. I don't have one of my own, and if I hear one more word about Lula's I'm going to puke."

The door opened before Lula could respond, and Steph looked up to see Ranger walking in. Her stomach flipped over, a move strong enough that she felt it to her fingertips.

He gave her an easy smile and a nod. "Babe."

Her throat was too full to actually answer, so she just nodded back.

Lula walked right up to Ranger with her hands on her hips. "Okay, Batman. What exactly are you going to do about this?"

He raised an eyebrow and glanced between Steph and Lula.

"She has a date tonight. A date!"

Steph could see the change in his eyes, an imperceptible darkening that she knew only she could see. But his tilted-up lips didn't falter. He locked eyes with her. "Morelli finally taking you out again, Babe? Congrats."

"No!" Lula said, stomping her foot and drawing Ranger's attention back. "You don't know nothin' do you? She and Supercop broke up. She's going on a date with some…some…"

"Jonathan," Connie supplied. "And he's a very nice man. Hell, I'd go out with him myself, but he's a little nervous about meeting the family. Though god knows I'd be more nervous about Steph's family than mine."

This time, the almost-smile fell, and all traces of the easy familiarity he had shown when he walked in were gone. He looked directly at Lula. "Stephanie's a big girl. I'm sure she can make her own decisions."

He walked into Vinnie's office without a glance toward Steph. The door clicked when he shut it behind him. Steph flinched. The soft sound resonated louder than if he had slammed it: his easy acceptance of her 'date.'

She wanted to curl up on the couch where she sat, bury her head in her knees and cry. But there was no way in hell he'd give him the satisfaction of coming out of Vinnie's office and seeing her like that. Instead, she rounded on Lula.

"Why the hell did you tell him that?"

"Somebody has to pull Batman's head out of his ass. Why the hell are you going out with this loser anyway? Everybody knows you're in love with his dumb ass," she said, jerking her thumb toward the doorway where Ranger had disappeared.

Steph rubbed her fingertips over her forehead, suddenly exhausted and wanting nothing more than to flee. "That's not the point, Lula. He doesn't want me. And I'm not going to beg him to change his mind."

"What planet are you livin' on, girl? Where did you get the idea he doesn't want you?"

She sighed and dropped her arms, folding them protectively across herself instead. "Because he told me."

Lula shuffled her feet for a second, and Connie dropped her head. "Oh," Lula said.

"Look," Steph said. "I appreciate you watching out for me. I do, but it's just not going to happen." She forced cheeriness into her voice. "And Jonathan seems nice. It'll be fun."

Connie gave her an overly bright smile. "Yeah. He is nice."

Lula nodded. "Real nice. And cute, too. And the eye thing isn't that bad. Could be worse."

Steph smiled, trying to hide the little pieces of her heart that were splintering off. She stood, desperate to leave. To run from the choking atmosphere that Ranger had left behind with merely his presence.

But before she could, the door to Vinnie's office flew open and he came directly toward her, his gaze and stride unyielding. Not even bothering to say anything, he grabbed her by the arm and headed for the door.

She struggled to gain her footing, but managed to follow him out the door, barely registering the sound of Connie grumbling about another damn bug.

She found herself in the alley and before she had time to say even one of the caustic remarks flashing through her mind over his treatment of her, he had her pinned against the brick wall.

Her words froze in her throat at the look on his face.

He took a deep breath and opened his mouth, only to close his eyes for a second, and take a second breath, as if his normal calm had fled and he no longer knew how to proceed.

He loosed his hold on her arms, just a bit, and leaned down to speak directly into her ear. "Don't ever, _ever_, think for a second that I don't want you."

He leaned back and framed her face with both his hands. He looked into her eyes, and she could swear he was examining her soul, turning it over, inspecting it for cracks. Her eyes filled with tears. She closed them, hoping to hide at least something from him, keep some part of her heart to herself.

"Stephanie," he whispered, forcing her to open her eyes and look up at him.

She tried to read something in his eyes, but as usual, she had no idea what he was thinking or what he was feeling or what he was hiding from her. There was emotion there, certainly. Intense emotion. But still, she couldn't decipher a bit of it.

He took her hand, and pressed it over his heart. She could feel how fast his heart was beating. It was thundering, in part at least, she hoped, for her. He held her hand there for a moment before leaning down and whispering, his voice hoarse. "Babe."

She thought he might say more, might explain, but he didn't. And before she could even move, he was gone.

…

"A date," he said to himself. "A fucking date." Morelli he could handle but some new guy? Ranger sighed and rested his head against the headrest in his truck.

And when had he taken to talking to himself, anyway?

Probably around the time he had taken to stalking innocent women.

He picked up the binoculars again and peered into the restaurant. He hoped the tinted window would prevent anyone from seeing what he was doing. That would be fun to explain to the cops.

He watched as Steph tore off a piece of bread, dipped it in the olive oil, and popped it in her mouth. She was looking at her date, smiling, nodding along to whatever he was saying. She had that look on her face – the one he had always taken for granted – like what this douchebag was saying was the most important thing in the world. Like this guy was the most important person in the world at that moment.

_She used to look at_me_ like that_, he thought. Now, whenever he approached her, she just looked guarded, wary. Like she was waiting for the final blow to come and was bracing herself.

He was sure, almost positive, that he was doing the right thing by staying away from her. But the knowledge that he had put that look on her face, that he was responsible for all the sadness he could see her carrying around, was almost too much him.

She laughed at something else her date said, and took a sip of wine. Something in his stomach twisted up.

His phone rang and he lunged for it, desperate for any distraction.

"We got a line on Jacobson," Tank said. "He just showed up at a bar on Oden."

He sat straight up. "Fuck. We needed him to stay home tonight. We'll never get him out of there without a scene."

"I'll call Jeanne Ellen."

Ranger groaned. "Half of the time she makes it worse. And we have to get him tonight."

"Call Steph. She won't mind the short notice if you explain how important it is."

He stared into the restaurant window. She was smiling again. She was relaxed, and looked happier than she had in weeks.

"We have to do it tonight, and we have to have Steph," Tank said.

He stared at her for another minute before hanging up on Tank.

He had sworn to himself that he wouldn't hurt her again. He'd keep his distance for a while, she'd go back to Morelli, and they could go back to being friends. He needed her friendship, her presence in his life. He couldn't have it if he kept hurting her. And she deserved better. A lot better.

He sighed and got out of the truck. This was pretty much guaranteed to hurt her. Or at least royally piss her off. He wasn't sure which was worse.

As he walked into the restaurant, he was starting to get pissed off himself. This was all Morelli's fault. If the cop had just kept his mouth shut, none of them would be in this situation. And once again, he now had to deal with cop's shit. If it didn't require so much paperwork, he'd kick they guy's ass. But he had a general aversion to jail, so…

Steph's eyes got huge when he appeared at their table.

The douchebag was okay, he guessed, for a douchebag. He was preppy, with an oxford shirt, dark blond prissy hair, and trendy glasses that he probably thought made him look smart. Glasses! On an ophthalmologist. This guy was no good. He also looked terrified by Ranger's appearance.

Steph gave him a tight smile. Yeah, she was royally pissed.

"What's up, Ranger?" she said.

"We have an emergency. We need your help with a skip."

She held his eyes for a moment. "Can it wait?"

He shook his head. "We forfeit at midnight."

She gave her date an apologetic smile. She introduced each quickly, glossing over relationships and calling Ranger her boss. He raised an eyebrow. Guess that was one way to describe it.

She turned back to Ranger. "Can you at least give me an hour?"

"It took us a week to track him this far. This will be the only chance we get."

She stared at him for another minute before nodding. "I'll meet in you in the parking lot in a minute."

He nodded once, and walked out. He pulled the truck around to the front of the restaurant, where he could see her inside. She smiled at her date, said a few things, and they both stood. Ranger watched as the douchebag leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. He seethed, but knew it was partly his own fault – not only that he had to sit and watch this but that she was on a date at all.

Steph climbed into the truck, slammed the door shut, and turned to glare at him. "Seriously?"

"Some idiot judge gave him bail on a second child molestation charge. Yes, I'm serious."

She looked front and finally blew out a breath. She grabbed the seatbelt and clicked it shut. "Fine."

"If there was another way, I would have taken in, Steph. Believe me."

She glared again and crossed her arms.

When they arrived, he handed her the wire, not wanting the repeat the mistakes of the last distraction job she had done for him. She didn't say anything as she taped it down.

"Lester's inside. He'll point out the skip."

She nodded, and climbed out of the truck. Ranger watched her walk in and then leaned his head against the head rest.

…

It took her almost forty-five minutes flirting, showing off her legs, and cajoling before she got the skip out of the bar.

She was lucky she got him out at all, as distracted as she was.

When she finally got him to follow her, the guys grabbed at the door. She kept walking toward Ranger's truck.

She opened the door and blinked in surprise when she found him still sitting in it. His head was leaned back and his eyes were closed.

She slid in and softly shut the door. He turned his head toward her and opened one eye.

"You did good," he said. He sat up and pulled an earpiece out of his ear and set it on the dash.

"I thought he was going to want to keep drinking."

He didn't respond, but just put the truck in gear and pulled out of the lot.

The silence stretched between them. She found herself leaning back in the seat, staring at him. The cab was dark, lit only by flashes of light.

When he stopped at a red light, he looked over at her, but she didn't bother to look away. Their eyes held, but she had no idea what he was thinking. When the light turned green, he looked back front and kept driving.

"I should thank you," she said softly.

He glanced at her. "Thank me?"

"Yeah. For interrupting my date. The guy was jerk, even if he was cute. And who volunteers to stick their finger in people's eyes for a living, anyway?"

"Maybe next time you should pick a real doctor."

"Yeah, an ER doctor. I wouldn't have to wait in line for stitches."

He flashed her a smile, a bright one, and somehow it lifted her entire day. Her heart swelled, feeling lighter than it had in days. She had missed this, just being together. And if they couldn't ever be in a real relationship, she had to at least have this…

"I want us to be friends again," she said before she could lose her nerve.

"We are friends."

"You know what I mean."

He glanced over at her, but didn't say anything.

"I just wish we could go back to the way things were a few weeks ago. That things were normal between us."

He reached over and took her hand. He lifted it and gently pressed a kiss to her palm. "They will be, babe."

* * *

_Please please review - it really means a lot to me to see what everyone thinks - any opinions at all! _

_Thanks for reading! _


	4. Chapter 4

_Thanks so much for the awesome reviews of the last chapter. Once again, if you have any comments, any ideas, know where you want this to go…anything at all, just let me know._

_Rating for language_

_I don't own them, will return them (begrudgingly), etc…_

…

"_I just wish we could go back to the way things were a few weeks ago. That things were normal between us."_

_He reached over and took her hand. He lifted it and gently pressed a kiss to her palm. "They will be, babe."_

…

But they weren't. As weeks passed, the strain between them got worse. When she did see him at the bond's office, he simply nodded. If she called for help, he sent Tank. He always sent Tank right away, and she always had backup if she needed it, but it wasn't the same.

One Friday evening, about a month after her 'date,' she realized she had gone an entire week without seeing or talking to him. She was at the Bond's office, grabbing a pair of cuffs to replace the ones a skip had taken off with, when the realization hit her.

She sank down onto the dirty couch as tears filled her eyes. It had been a week, and she hadn't even noticed. Except for the times he had been out of town, they had never gone a week without at least talking.

Their friendship was disappearing, vanishing into nothingness, and taking her heart with it. What would happen to her when she no longer saw him at all? When it was a month, instead of a week. When it was a year?

She put her head down on the throw pillow and tried to stop her tears from falling, but it was no use.

…

Ranger glanced at the readout on his phone and cursed under his breath before answering. "Talk."

"Any chance you know where Steph is?" Morelli was not the person he wanted to spend his evening talking to, and certainly not about Stephanie.

"Why?"

"She was supposed to be at her parents house for dinner, and then meet me after. She hasn't done either, she's not answering her cell, and she's not in her apartment or with Mary Lou. Her mother's about to blow a gasket. I don't know what kind of cases she's been working on lately—" 

"I'll find her." He hung up and pulled over. Using his cell phone, he pulled up the tracker in her car. Bond's office. He headed that way, mulling it over in his head. It was after ten, and she didn't have any big cases last time he checked, but this was Steph, and her car being parked at the Bond's office could mean anything.

He tried to stay objective until he could get there, but objectively had long ago become scarce where Stephanie was concerned.

The building was dark when he pulled up. The first tendrils of worry snaked through his belly. He slipped in through the back, feeling the hood of Steph's car as he walked past. It was cold. He noticed the deactivated alarm, and with his gun drawn, crept toward the lobby area.

As he stepped into the lobby, he saw Stephanie lying face down on the couch, and those small inklings of worry exploded in his heart. He drew a silent, shallow breath in through his nose, a pitiable attempt to stay calm, and continued clearing the building without approaching her.

Once he was sure they were alone, he holstered his gun and walked toward the couch. He gently grasped her wrist. The rise and fall of her chest and the feel of her pulse steadily beating under his thumb registered in his mind at the same time. She was just asleep.

He let out a deep breath and sank to the floor, sitting beside the couch. He studied her as he waited for his heartbeat to slow back to normal. He couldn't see all of her face, since it was smooshed into a pillow, but he could make out the down-turned corner of her lip, the crease of her brow by the temple.

Even in her sleep, she seemed sad. For weeks now, he had noticed that her smile was a little slower in appearing, and not quite as bright when he did see it.

The little bit that he saw her at all, that is. He had been avoiding her, trying to keep from hurting her worse than he already had. She had been avoiding him too.

Every time he saw her, he had to rethink this decision. But every time he came to the same conclusion. A relationship was too dangerous, for both of them. But seeing her like this was killing him.

He stood and stepped outside to call Morelli before the guy had more heart palpitations.

"Looks like she fell asleep at the Bond's office," he said when Morelli answered.

"She still asleep?" the cop asked.

"Yeah." 

"Just tell her to call me tomorrow, then. No point in waking her up."

Ranger made a noise of agreement, and debated the merit of asking his next question. "Does Steph seem different to you?" he finally said. "Since you guys broke up?"

"No," Morelli said. "Why?"

"Nothing. I'll have her call." Ranger hung up before the cop could question him further.

He stepped back in and watched Steph some more. Maybe she hid it better around the cop. Or maybe he just knew her better than the cop did.

Her shirt was riding up at the waist, exposing the creamy slope of her hip. He rested his hand there, squeezed just a little, and kissed her cheek.

She mumbled something into the pillow, but didn't move. He squeezed her hip again, then let his fingers wander across her stomach. He lifted her hair aside and kissed her neck.

She turned her head far enough to get one eye open and look up at him.

"Hey babe," he said. "Lot of people looking for you."

She frowned and lifted her head to look around. There were tear tracks dried on her face, her mascara was smeared, and her hair was standing up in every possible direction. She should have looked like a mess, but instead, she looked like a beautiful woman who hadn't deserved to get her heart stomped on.

He cursed himself in his head.

He scooped her up, and sat down on the couch with her in his lap. Still groggy and compliant from sleep, she curled up into his chest.

"I think I fell asleep," she said, her voice muffled by his shirt.

"You had your mom panicked and Morelli running all over town looking for you."

She sighed, and shifted even closer to him. She mumbled something, but he couldn't make it out. The tone of it was so dejected that he couldn't ask her to repeat it.

"What's going on, babe?"

"I came in to get another pair of cuffs from the back. I was just going to lie down for a minute before going to my parents, but…"

That wasn't what he had been asking. "You've been tired a lot lately. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine."

He rubbed her arms and kissed the top of her head. "Stephanie," he said, directly into her ear. He waited until she looked up at him. "Everything is not fine with you. What's going on?"

As she stared him, those broken-heart eyes filled with tears. She tried to climb off his lap, but he tightened his grip, holding her where she was. She buried her head in his chest again.

He held her close, kissed the top of her head, and whispered in Spanish in her ear, hoping it would help calm her down. He knew she was crying – he could feel her tears seeping through his t-shirt – but she was silent. No sobs or hysterics, just a shudder every now and then that ran through her body into his.

She sat up and tried to wipe her eyes with the back of her hands. "Sorry," she said.

He shook his head before kissing her on the forehead. "Don't be. Are you going to talk to me now?"

She mumbled something and tried to climb off his lap again. This time he let her. She dashed for the bathroom.

She had that stubborn look on her face when she came back – the look that he always knew meant that she had something to say and had absolutely no intention of backing down.

"What exactly do you want from me?" she said.

He raised an eyebrow.

She planted her fists on her hips. "You got Joe to dump me, you ruined the one actual date I've been on in years, yet you adamantly refuse a relationship with me. What is it that you do want?"

He tipped his head back on the couch and closed his eyes. Shit. This was not a conversation he wanted to have. But even behind his closed eyes he could see her – her eyes sad, but her face tough and resolute. God he loved her.

"You know what I want," he said.

"Spell it out for me. With no other factors than what _you_ want, what would you and I together look like?"

He opened one eye and stared at her. "You seriously want to do this?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. She didn't look sure at all.

He bit back a sigh and sat up. "We would have an exclusive physical relationship. We'd be together whenever it was convenient for both of us. We wouldn't live together, there'd be no emotional strings, and we wouldn't be held accountable to each other."

She bit her lip and tilted her head like she was actually thinking it through.

"Stephanie," he said softly, pulling her attention back to him. "There's no future in a relationship like that."

"How long would it last?"

"As long as we were both satisfied by the arrangement."

She bit her lip again, and this time he stood up and approached her.

"Don't do this," he said. "You deserve better than an occasional fuck when it's convenient."

Hurt flashed in her eyes and she straightened her back. He waited for her next words. Deep down, he wanted her to slap him and call him a bastard, to tell him that she was worth much more than that. That she'd never settle for what he was offering her. She shouldn't settle.

But she simply gave one slight nod. She lifted her chin and looked right at him. "And when exactly do you think an…arrangement like this should begin?"

He studied her for a moment. He didn't like this. It was what he wanted, sure. But it was only going to get her hurt worse in the end. But he had never been able to deny her anything before, and he wasn't going to start now.

He took the final step remaining between them and slid his hands over her arms. "You're exhausted and upset. Come home with me tonight. Get a good night sleep, and we'll deal with the rest of it tomorrow."

He pulled her close and felt her nod against his chest.

…

Steph stood in the shower and let the hot water pound down on her back. In spite of herself, she had to smile. Ranger had the best shower. Ranger had the best everything.

Her smile faded. Maybe that's why he didn't want a relationship with her. Ranger had the best everything. It only stood to reason that he'd want the best woman too.

His words echoed through her head. _You deserve better. _ But clearly, that wasn't true. In her entire life, no man had ever offered her more than the occasional, convenient night. Except Dickie, and that didn't count.

She turned her face into the water spray as the tears she hadn't been able to control all evening slipped out again. Could she really do this? Sleep with Ranger. Keep it casual, non-emotional. No strings, no accountability. Maybe.

She shut off the water and toweled off. She checked the mirror closely, but the hot water and steam had scrubbed away any evidence of tears. The hollowness she could see in her eyes, though, couldn't be erased quite so easily. She pasted on a cheery smile and checked the mirror again. Look at that – she almost looked happy.

She grabbed one of Ranger's t-shirts out of the dressing room and was slipping under the covers as he walked into the bedroom.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Better?"

"Yeah. You're sheets are the best."

He smiled and kissed her again, her lips this time, and headed for the shower.

Five minutes later, he came back, wearing only a pair of low slung, silk boxers. Her mouth went dry and she licked her lips. When she finally dragged her eyes up past his perfect chest to his eyes, his were solid black.

He flipped out the light and climbed in beside her, pulling her close to him. "How you feeling?"

She scrunched up her nose and wiggled her toes, the only parts of her body not clamped down by his embrace. "Good." And she was. Amazing what just a touch from him could do to her.

He leaned down and kissed her jaw before moving his attention to her mouth.

"Just how good are we talking here?" he whispered.

She pulled back just far enough to meet his eyes. She smiled, the first real smile in weeks. God she loved him. "Very good."

He searched her eyes for a moment, as if he were checking to see if she told the truth. "You really want to do this? This…arrangement?"

She nodded. She wanted this. Their friendship had been shot, and if this was the only part of him she could get anymore, than this was what she would take. It wasn't real, and it wasn't enough, but for now it would have to be both. It simply had to be.

His mouth turned up in a wolf grin, and she couldn't help the giggle that slipped out or the sliver of anticipation that skittered through her body.

"Good," he whispered, before kissing her again.

But as his tongue touched hers, her heart flipped over in her chest and she knew she was wrong. She was never going to be able to do this. To keep the psychical and the emotional separate.

But did it matter?

She couldn't fathom hurting worse than she already did now. And really, how much worse could this make it? A few weeks of respite from the pain, a few weeks of memories to take with her: of his arms, his lips, his touch, the way he made her feel that no one could ever take away. A few weeks – that was all she needed. Then she'd walk away.

…

_Please, please, please review! I always want to know what people think – the good, the bad, the ugly :) Thanks for reading this far!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks so much for the awesome reviews of the last chapter. I think I caught everyone, but if I missed you – I truly appreciate the time you spend reading and reviewing. Once again, if you have any comments, any ideas, know where you want this to go…anything at all, just let me know._

_Rating for language_

_I don't own them, will return them (begrudgingly), etc…_

…

_But as his tongue touched hers, her heart flipped over in her chest and she knew she was wrong. She was never going to be able to do this. To keep the psychical and the emotional separate. _

_But really, how much worse could this make it? A few weeks of respite from the pain, a few weeks of memories to take with her: of his arms, his lips, his touch, the way he made her feel that no one could ever take away. A few weeks – that was all she needed. Then she'd walk away._

…

A few weeks turned into a month, then several. Steph surprised herself with how happy she actually was. Their relationship was exactly how Ranger had defined it: sex when it was convenient for him, with no accountability.

Though to be honest, it wasn't much different from their earlier friendship, the one she had wanted back so badly. He was still there for her when she needed him, they still worked together and spent time together. He was back to being her best friend. And a few nights a week he'd show up at her apartment or drag her to his.

No one noticed the change in dynamic, not even the Merry Men who were used to her coming and going and spending the night. She kept her mother and Lula and Connie at bay about her love life and fell into a platonic friendship with Joe. All in all, it worked.

And she was happy.

But that nagging little voice that told her it wasn't real and wasn't enough never shut up. And each morning when he walked out of her apartment, it got a little louder.

…

She found her phone wedged between the gear shift and the passenger seat and answered it on the third ring. She smiled when his familiar "Yo," washed over her.

"I'm taking the night off," he said. "Coming over?"

"Hmm, what exactly does this evening come with?" she said.

He chuckled, that low sound that instantly turned her brain to mush and her knees to liquid. "You need more than just me?"

"I was thinking we could invite Ella along too," she said.

"Are you out of food again?"

"I have food!" Well, she had hamster food. Some carrots that she would only touch if she were starving. Maybe even some pellets.

"Yes, you can have Ella's dinner," he said.

"You're laughing at me, aren't you?"

"Never."

"Can I have Ella's dessert too?"

"Would you really hold out for dessert?"

For about ten minutes, she thought. Maybe eight. "I will if that's what it takes to get some of her flan."

His voice dropped to a bedroom pitch. "I'd like to think I'm better than flan, babe."

Of course he was! But she had no intention of admitting that. "I don't know. I mean, the flan has caramel sauce and—"

"That sound you're hearing is my ego deflating."

"What time should I come?"

He laughed again and she cut him off before he could say whatever dirty thing had sprung to mind. "I mean, what time should I arrive at your, uh, apartment?"

He paused before saying, "Meet me at seven. And you're cute when you blush."

"What…where?" Her head snapped up just in time to see him in the rearview mirror. She rolled her eyes.

"I saw that."

She did it again and pulled to a stop in front of the bond's office. Before she even realized he had parked behind her, he was standing beside her car and opening the door for her.

He pulled her toward the alley, and within seconds had her entire body pressed between his and the brick wall. His tongue touched hers and she couldn't help the moan that escaped her. She leaned her head back on the brick, exposing her throat to him, loving the feel of his lips and teeth running over her skin. He bit down gently and shocks ran through her body, all the way to her toes.

His fingers crept up her abdomen, finding their way under her shirt, leaving little prickles of sensations behind with every step. While his lips made it back to her mouth, he palmed her breast and let his thumb slide across her nipple. He squeezed her hips and pulled her as close to him as he could, the pressure alone enough to have heat pooling in her stomach and her knees going weak.

"I'll see you in a few hours?" he whispered, finally ending the soul-searching kiss.

She wiggled her hips against his. "Mm hmm."

"Still want that flan?"

"Flan?" she said dumbly.

He chuckled and kissed her again, a quick one this time. She watched him walk away, a cock-sure, alpha male swagger in every step. What an ass, she thought. But a really hot ass.

She peeled her limp body from the brick wall and headed into the bond's office to turn in her receipts for the day. Lula's squeal met her at the door.

"Girl! He pulled out of that car like it was about to blow. What'd you two do back there? Come on, you an tell us."

Steph rolled her eyes and handed the body receipts she had to Connie. She couldn't say nothing happened, because the after-effects of his kiss were written all over her face. Namely: the big goofy smile she couldn't get rid of.

"He kissed me. It was no big deal." Actually, it was a hell of a lot more than a kiss, but the girls didn't need to know that.

Lula shook her head and gave a 'tsk tsk' sound. "I don't know what's the matter with you two. You could light a fire with the sparks flying between ya, and you keep sayin' there's nothing going on."

Steph sighed. "There's nothing going on."

Lula and Connie both eyed her for a minute, but Connie wrote out the checks and handed them to Steph. "Here Steph. Oh, Vinnie has to talk to you first thing tomorrow."

"Sure, yeah," she said. "I'll be here."

…

Ranger had just finished showering when he heard Ella and Steph talking in the living room. He pulled on clothes and walked out there.

He studied Steph for a moment before she noticed him. He had a suspicion that this wasn't going to last much longer. The sex was great – it always was between them. But it was as if he couldn't touch all of her. Like there was a part of her that she held back from him.

It never occurred to him that it had been his words – the parameters he set on the relationship – that forced her to hold back enough to protect herself.

His only thought, the only thing he had been thinking for weeks now, was that any day, she'd walk away. And frankly, he didn't think he'd be able to stand it.

She was still laughing at whatever Ella had said when she turned to him. God, something in his chest actually ached when he saw that smile.

Ella left them alone and Steph walked toward him. She ran her hands over his chest. "It's official," she said. "All my dreams have come true."

His heart skipped a beat. But instead of reacting, he simply raised one eyebrow.

"She brought flan. You and flan, together."

He forced himself to smile. "That's all you want out of life?"

"What more is there?" She leaned up and kissed him, pressing her body against his. He responded like he always did, but her words were ringing in his ear.

He eased back from her kiss. "Let's eat," he said.

She gave him a funny look, but turned to the table and started uncovering dishes.

He kept an eye on her as they ate dinner. She had seemed happy for the past few months, but recently, he had been seeing the old sadness creep back into her eyes. Tonight though, she was all smiles.

Ranger had to smile himself as she blasted through dinner and practically lunged for the flan. He grabbed her and pulled her down into his lap and fed her bites of the flan, all the while trying to close his eyes against what his life was going to look like if she walked out of it.

…

Steph fell asleep in his arms almost instantly, like she did every night they spent together, but sleep wouldn't come for him. He gently eased his arm out from under her head and slid out of bed.

He grabbed a bottle of water in the kitchen. He had to idea what to do about Stephanie. Their whole 'arrangement' was fucked up.

In truth, he didn't want to love her like he did. He wanted his uncomplicated life back. Because loving her meant so many things – not the least of which was knowing that he couldn't stomach hurting her. It was killing him to know that she was settling for next to nothing, when she deserved the world.

But to give her the world, he'd have to change everything. His life was too dangerous, he worked too many hours, even if he tried he'd never be able to articulate his feelings, he'd never be able to make her feel secure in a relationship, he didn't want more kids, and he certainly didn't want to get married again. One marriage was enough for him – he felt claustrophobic just thinking about being _that_ accountable to another person.

And the list went on. But despite all those reasons to stay away from her, he loved her, and couldn't stop. What they had now wasn't enough. Day by day, it was becoming less than enough for him, and he knew damn good and well that it wasn't even close to being enough for her, no matter how much she tried to pretend it was.

He was a bastard for not just committing to her – he knew that – he just didn't know how to fix it. Unfortunately, he was going to have to come with an answer fast, or there would be nothing left to fix.

…

She was just barely awake enough to smile when she rolled over on Ranger's perfect sheets. She slid her hand across the sheets toward him. He never got up to run those mornings when she was there, but instead stayed in bed with her to…

She blinked and sat up in confusion when her hand didn't encounter skin, but instead just more expanse of sheets.

She pulled the sheet up with her, covering her bare chest, suddenly chilled at the thought of Ranger just disappearing. A pit formed in her stomach as she realized the very thing she had been worried about had just…

But that was ridiculous. He hadn't disappeared. He had just gone for a run, or to get breakfast, or had a meeting pop up, or was in the shower, or—or—well, there were a whole host of reasons he wasn't just sitting around waiting for her to wake up.

"Get a grip," she mumbled to herself in the silent apartment. God, if she weren't careful, she was going to turn into the nagging female she had tried so hard not to be. If he were to walk in at that moment, a million questions would have come tumbling out of her mouth, questions she had bit back every day for months.

She ran through the shower and got dressed. As she was toweling her hair dry, she heard the front door the apartment open.

"Finally," she said to herself. "You better have brought me doughnuts," she yelled out, trying to keep her voice light and teasing.

When there wasn't a response, she poked her head out toward the living room, only to be met by Ella's startled gaze.

"Oh Stephanie, I'm sorry," she said. "Ranger didn't say anything about breakfast before he left and I didn't realize you were here." She awkwardly set down the laundry basket she was holding. "Um," she said, wringing her hands, "I'd be happy to whip you up something—"

"Sorry," Steph said. "I thought you were—" She blinked at Ella for a second. She should have been reassuring Ella, explaining the misunderstanding. But instead that pit in her stomach grew. "What do you mean 'left'?"

"Oh dear. I saw him in the elevator. He was in a rush to get to the airport—I just thought—"

The airport. Steph closed her eyes for a second, trying to hold back her panic. So he had left. The question was if he was coming back. Ella was staring at her when she opened her eyes.

"Oh right," she said, snapping her fingers and trying to inject cheeriness into her voice. "That's right I forgot. Well don't mind me, I'll get out of your hair in just a sec. I just need to grab—" Her voice cracked. She gave an awkward laugh to cover it, but the pity in Ella's gaze said she didn't buy it for a second.

Steph spied her purse on the sideboard table by the door and dashed for it. "I'll see you later, Ella," she called over her shoulder as she shoved her feet into her sandals. She grabbed her purse as she flew past and hit the door for the stairs as dead run.

Tank caught her at the bottom, just as she pushed through door into the garage.

"Stephanie," he said, grabbing her around the waist and stopping her momentum. "What's wrong? What happened?"

She took a deep breath to calm herself and tried to laugh. "Nothing's wrong. Why?"

He let go of her and gave her a disbelieving stare. "You just ran down seven flights of stairs, faster than I have ever seen you move. What happened?"

"Oh, uh—" She gave herself a mental smack to the forehead. She had been trying to avoid the Merry Men. "Nothing, uh, a doughnut sale, the Tasty Pastry—"

To her complete and utter dismay, her eyes filled with tears. She wasn't even making any sense to herself.

In a split second, Tank's concerned face turned hard. "He didn't tell you he was leaving, did he?"

She shook her head as the first tear spilled over her lower lash. Another one followed. She huffed at her own stupidity and wiped them away with the back of her hand. "Can you tell me—"

She trailed off as Tank gave a small shake of his head. She didn't know if he was unsure himself, or was under orders not to say, but either way, it hurt. Probably more than it should have.

She made a vague gesture toward the door to the stairs. "Can you, uh, not tell him about—"

Tank leaned over and wrapped her in a bear hug. "Your secret's safe with me. I'll even destroy the tape of you running so no one gets the wrong idea."

She gave a shaky laugh and impulsively kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks, big guy."

"Go home and get some sleep. You look beat," he said.

Nodding, she headed for her car. She dropped onto her bed as soon as she made it into her apartment.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid." She beat her fist into the pillow and buried her face in it. But she had forgotten to wash her sheets, so the pillow smelled like him. She picked it up and flung it toward the door and rolled over onto her back.

It wasn't like he had never left town in the months they had been together. He had on several occasions. And he never told her where he was going or what he was doing. But each time he had made a point to seek her out and let her know when he was leaving and when he thought he'd be back.

She hadn't realized at the time just how much that meant to her. He wasn't accountable to her – their entire relationship had been based on him not wanting to be held accountable to anyone – yet he had sought her out anyway.

Something fragile cracked inside of her when she realized the difference this time. Something that had been on the verge of cracking for months. This time he had not only gone out of his way not to tell her – she had been with him all night for Christ's sake – but he had left orders as well that she not be told.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid." she muttered again.

Her phone rang and she shot off the bed. Her phone! She hadn't checked it in her rush to leave the apartment. He must have left her a message.

She fished it out of her purse…but it was Vinnie. Right. She was supposed to be at work. It was 10:30 on a Friday morning and she was still at home.

Instead of answering, she checked the messages. There were three – surely one was from Ranger.

The first two were from her mother. She deleted them without listening to them. She had been going to dinner for years. Surely she didn't need a reminder of the time and place any longer.

But the third was from Joe. "Hey Steph," it said. "Got that info you wanted on one of your skips. It's Friday, do you want a pinch hitter at dinner tonight? I ran into your mom at Giovinicci's yesterday, and she's on the warpath about you dating. Let me know if you want some help."

So Ranger hadn't called. She was probably overreacting. He wasn't accountable to her in the same way she wasn't accountable to him. She had agreed to this – he hadn't broken any promises.

With a sigh, she dialed Joe's number and got his voice mail. "I would love company tonight. Maybe we can fake a whole wedding again. Wanna pick me up?"

She packed up her stuff and headed for the Bond's office. She was overreacting – that was all there was to it. He'd be back and she'd be happy again and they'd start the whole cycle over again. No point in wallowing in self-pity.

And she shoved away the little voice that told her that she deserved better than Ranger was giving her.

…

_Sorry, this was one of those boring yet necessary chapters to set up everything that's coming next. But in the next chapter, there will be the confrontation that you all know is coming._

_And Just as a head's up, there will probably be somewhere around 10 chapters. And yes, in answer to all the reviews, Ranger's ass will be thoroughly and painfully kicked before this is over ;)_

_Thanks for reading! _


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks again for all the reviews for the last chapter. Rating for language, I don't own them._

…

Knowing how childish and immature it was should have stopped her. It didn't. She hid behind Joe and ducked her head as she followed him up the sidewalk to her parents house.

"No way," Joe said, grabbing her elbow and pulling her around in front of him. "Just because I offered to help doesn't mean I'm leading the way. The front lines in a battle are always the first to fall."

She rolled her eyes. "This isn't a war."

"Yeah, which explains why you were hiding behind me."

"You're a cop! You're supposed to protect me from scary things."

"There's not enough riot gear in the world to protect you from your mother, cupcake. And don't think I'm stupid enough to let you cut and run and leave me here alone."

She glanced up at her mother and grandmother, standing in the doorway waiting for them, before looking back at Joe. "Okay. I'll go first, but if you disappear I will track down every potential girlfriend you have and tell them you have a severe case of gonorrhea."

"But Steph," he said with such sincerity that for a second she believed him. "I would never abandon you with your family." Then she noticed the way the edges of his lips were twitching upward.

She narrowed her eyes. "Maybe I'll say syphilis. That's the one where you mind actually rots, right?"

They were still eyeing each other when her mother opened the screen door. "Who has syphilis?"

Steph rolled her eyes. "No one, mom."

"Well are you coming up the walk or are you going to stand there all day? I have a pot roast that's going to be dry in exactly thirty seconds."

"Rock, paper, scissors?" Steph said to Joe, holding out her hand.

Joe reached around his back and grabbed cuffs from his waistband. He reached for her wrist and had one bracelet clamped down before she could protest. He locked the other to his own wrist and tugged her forward. "There, now we're in it together. No one can cut and run."

"This isn't going to go well," she muttered as she jogged to keep up with him.

Grandma opened the door for them. "Is this one of those kinky sex games? Cause I would sure like a hot-looking man to cuff me."

"See what you started?" Steph said to Joe.

He looked back and forth between Steph and Grandma. "I didn't really think this through, did I?"

Steph rolled her eyes and led him into the dining room, Frank looked at the two of them, down at the handcuffs, and back up. Then he shook his head, mumbled something, and stared back down at this plate. Joe pushed her forward toward her usual chair and sat down in the one to her left, since that's the hand that was cuffed.

"Okay, here's the pot roast and potatoes and—" Her mother stopped where she stood, still holding the pans, and stared at the handcuffs. "No. Absolutely not. I deal with a lot of things at this table – chickens being shot and Albert sniveling and Mother's sex talk – but I will not allow this. Take those off right now."

"Yes ma'am," Joe mumbled, pulling the key out of his pocket with his free hand.

Once that was done, Mrs. Plum continued setting out dinner. Steph sneaked a glance at Joe as they were filling their plates. They grinned at each other before looking back down at their plates.

…

"How come you offered to sit through this circus with me tonight?" Dinner was over and they were sitting on the front steps of her parent's house. The fall night was just warm enough that they didn't need their coats, but still had that fresh, crisp feel.

"I figured you could use some help," he said, "and I don't see Rambo stepping up. Where is he anyway?"

She shrugged and tried not to let Joe see how close to home his words hit. "You know, you've done more nice things for me since we broke up. You've been way more supportive too."

"And I'm not even getting sex out of it."

She laughed and nudged his shoulder with hers. "I'm serious."

He looked at her, with those chocolate eyes that could always lower her defenses. "I care about you, Steph, and you're not happy. I hate to see you like this. He's not good for you."

She looked away and dug her toe into the concrete walkway. "I'm happy most of the time." But that was a lie. She _seemed_ happy most of the time. As long as she didn't look too closely.

Joe wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him. He pressed a kiss into her hair. "Come back to me, Steph," he whispered. "We'll give it another shot. Make it work."

She leaned into him, wishing like hell that she could. "I can't."

"You're in love with him, aren't you?"

"Yeah." Though she sometimes wished that she weren't. That she and Ranger could just go back to being friends and have their old relationship back. But isn't that how she got herself into this in the first place? A desperate desire to hang on to whatever she could of him?

She sat up and wiped the back of her hands across her eyes. "This whole conversation is stupid. He'll be back in a few days and everything will go back to normal."

Joe regarded her with serious eyes. "Sure, Steph," he finally said. "Come on, I'll take you home."

…

But two days later, Steph still couldn't get Joe's words out of her head. She had cleaned her apartment, taken Mary Alice to the zoo, gone shopping with Mary Lou – and she still couldn't distract herself. Vinnie had given her a whole stack of new skips Friday with strict instructions about finding them, but she couldn't concentrate on the files.

Finally exhausted, she settled in on the couch and tried the TV. When that didn't work, she fished her laptop from under the couch and checked her email. She smiled when she saw an email from Julie. Hearing from the precocious little 11-year old always lifted her spirits.

_Hey Steph – We had the best time ever at Disneyland! I was so sad when Ranger said you were too busy to come. Did you get all your work done? I begged him and begged him to bring you with him, but he said you couldn't come this time. Next time, do you think you could come? I know you're busy and all, but it would be so much fun if all three of us could go together. _

_Don't tell him I wrote to you – he told me not to bug you anymore, but you don't mind do you? I like it when he comes to visit me, but he never stays for very long. Maybe soon I could come to Trenton again. Do you think if I came there that you would have time to hang out with me?_

_Julie (hugs and kisses)_

Steph sat frozen, staring at the screen, while the meaning of Julie's email slowly filtered into her mind. She took a deep breath and sat back on the couch, waiting for the pain in her chest to dissipate. So that's where Ranger had been. Taking his daughter to Disneyland. So much for a top-secret classified mission that he couldn't tell her about. He was blatantly cutting her out of his life. She could handle being shut out when she thought the government was requiring him to do it. She couldn't handle it when it meant that he asked his daughter not to contact her again.

She jumped when her cell phone rang. The sound was too loud in the silent apartment. She stared at the caller ID for a minute, trying to decide what to do, before finally answering it. She took a deep breath and forced her voice to be steady. "Hey."

"Want to come over tonight?" Ranger said.

She hesitated before saying, "Are you back in town?"

"On my way from the airport now. Should be home in an hour."

"I'll meet you there," she said. Her voice cracked, but she was pretty sure she hung up before he noticed.

She stared at her laptop for a minute before carrying it to the dining room and attaching it to the printer. She printed out Julie's email and read it again. She sat back down on the couch, still trying to figure out what to do. Did she just ignore it? Shred the letter, delete Julie's email, and go on like they had been?

When she left to go over to Ranger's, she was no closer to an answer. She wandered through his silent apartment, her movements sluggish. A fog had settled on her when she read the email, and now she couldn't seem to break out of it. It was like something heavy was smothering her, making it hard to walk, hard to breathe, hard to think straight.

She sat down on the couch and was still staring straight ahead, trying to corral her whirlwind thoughts when she heard the locks tumble on the front door. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second before turning that direction.

"Hey babe," he said. He started flipping through the mail on the sideboard table.

She looked down at the email, which was crumpled in her hands. She straightened it out and folded first in half, then in quarters.

"What's that?" Ranger said as he walked closer.

She looked at him, then down at the paper. When she looked back at him, he had raised one eyebrow, waiting for an answer. She took a deep breath and then gave him a shaky smile. "Nothing," she said. She slid the paper in the back pocket of her jeans. "It's nothing. Good trip?"

_Tell me, _she thought desperately. Tell me you took Julie to Disneyworld and next time you want me to come along.

"Fine," he said. "How was your weekend?"

She dropped her head. "Fine," she finally said.

He sat down beside her on the couch. "You okay, babe?"

"Yeah. Sure."

He leaned forward and brushed a kiss across her lips. She made a low sound in her throat and deepened the kiss, clinging to him, desperate to feel the way he always made her feel. Like he loved her and she was the only woman in the world. Even if it wasn't true.

She didn't even realize she had started crying until he pulled back and brushed the moisture off her cheeks with this thumbs. He cradled her face in both hands. "Steph," he said. "What's wrong?"

She shut her eyes, trying to turn off the tears. Why had she even thought they could go on like nothing happened? "I can't do this anymore," she whispered.

His fingers slipped from her face and he turned forward on the couch.

She slid over, away from him, just far enough that she could breathe. "I'm sorry," she said.

He turned to look at her, his eyes dark and unreadable. His voice was soft, tortured, almost. "Is what we have now really so terrible?"

And in that moment, she knew: he was never going to offer her anything else. She had every bit of his heart that he had to give, and it wasn't even close to being enough. "I just need more," she said.

"I know." He looked back at the blank TV.

He wasn't touching her. That was good. She didn't think she'd be able to do this if he touched her.

"I love you," she said, rushing through the words. She had to say it once, even if he didn't care. "I love you and I never meant for it to—I'm sorry." She got up and headed for the door. Her hand was on the doorknob when she heard him.

"Stephanie."

She turned back to look at him. He was standing beside the couch, in the shadows of the quickly darkening room. "If it helps, I'm sorry. I wish…" He trailed off.

"I wish too," she said.

…

Ranger grabbed a six pack of Corona out of the fridge and sat down in one of the easy chairs. As the minutes ticked by, the room descended further into darkness.

His phone rang, but he ignored it. Thirty seconds later, the door to his apartment banged open and Tank flipped on the light. "What the fuck did you do to her, man?"

"She go home?"

"No, she's in the parking garage. She's crying too hard to drive."

Ranger leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Every instinct he had was screaming for him to go after her, but he forced his body to stay still and his voice to sound impassive. "Then have someone drive her home."

Tank stared at him for a long minute before flipping the light back off and leaving. Ranger walked to the window and looked down, watching as first Steph's car, then a RangeMan Explorer pulled onto Haywood and turned toward Steph's apartment. He was still standing there twenty minutes later when the Explorer returned alone.

His cell phone rang, and this time he answered it. "Meet me in the gym," Tank said.

He took the elevator down and pushed through the gym door. Tank was standing in front of the ring, along with about ten other employees. "What's going on?" he said.

"There's a rule in this company," Tank said, making a fist and smacking it into his palm. "Maybe you remember making it. Anyone who allows the Bombshell to get hurt on their watch gets their ass kicked and is out of a job. Now, I can't fire you, but I'm sure as hell can kick your ass."

Ranger looked around at all the faces staring at him. No one was looking at him with the respect he usually got. Those who knew Steph best were staring at him with cold fury. Each of these men had seen Steph on the monitors as she left. He wondered briefly how upset she had to have been to forget that she was being monitored by camera. It was more upset than he had ever seen her, certainly more upset than she had let on upstairs.

He nodded once. "Fair enough." He reached over his head to grab the back of his shirt, and yanked it over his head. Tossing it to the side, he stepped into the ring. He turned toward Tank and spread his arms. "What you got?"

Tank didn't waste any time, but came toward him, slamming his shoulder into Ranger's stomach, knocking the wind out of him as they crashed onto the mat.

Ranger lay there staring up at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath. Tank held a hand out, and helped him to his feet. As soon as he was up, Tank came at him again. And it kept going, for twenty minutes or so, until Tank decided he'd made his point. Ranger never threw a punch.

After Tank helped him up for the final time, he nodded at Ranger. Ranger tuned and limped out of the gym. The guys stepped back, clearing a path for him. When he made it back to his apartment, he grabbed an ice pack from the fridge and a tube of bruise ointment before sinking back down into the same chair he had been in earlier. He picked up the warm Corona and took a long pull.

Every part of his body ached, but he was glad. It drowned out the pain he had been feeling before. It was taking all of his power not to go after Stephanie. To know that he hurt her this badly was killing him, and he was desperate to fix it. To heal her pain. For years, he had been taking care of her – fixing things that were wrong, helping her when she was hurt.

He couldn't do that this time. He couldn't fix this. If he went after her, it would only make it worse, and he couldn't bear the thought of hurting her worse than he already had. But he couldn't offer her more, and apart from that, staying away from her was the only thing he could do.

The apartment door clicked open and he looked up, expecting to see Bobby. But it was Steph standing in the doorway. Her face was red and puffy, her hair was a mess, and she was in her pajamas, but to Ranger, she had never looked more beautiful. He didn't say anything, not sure if she was an apparition he had conjured up or if she had really come back to him.

She took two tentative steps inside before she spotted the bruises. He had never bothered to put a shirt back on, so dark red blotches were visible on his face, arms, and torso. She came closer and leaned down to examine his face. She reached up and touched a bruise under his eye, then one on his jaw. Her fingers were feather soft, but the injuries were fresh enough that he flinched.

"What happened?"

"The guys decided to enforce a rule we have."

She frowned at him. "What rule?"

"That anyone who hurts you gets their ass kicked."

She gasped and stood up. "What? They had no right to – I'm going to go down there and—"

"Babe." He yanked her hand and pulled her down onto his lap. "Leave them alone. I deserved it and we both know it."

She snorted. "Well that's true."

He started to laugh, but the sound cut off as pain poured through his ribs.

"Am I hurting you?" she said, trying to climb off his lap.

She was, but he wanted her close. "Don't go," he said.

"Here, let me—" She carefully straddled him, sitting with her knees on the chair cushion on either side of his legs. "Better?"

He rested his hands on her hips. "Yeah. Why'd you come back?"

She chewed on her lip and shrugged. "I couldn't sleep. I was going to go for a drive, and then I was here—I don't know, Bobby said maybe you needed help so I came up." She glanced around the room, trying to avoid his eyes, and spotted the bruise ointment. "Here," she said. She squeezed some of the ointment onto her fingertip and gently spread it across the bruise developing on his jaw.

Their gaze held as she brushed more across the bruise under his eye. She leaned down and touched her lips to the red mark right under his collarbone before rubbing the cream on it. She repeated the gesture on the bruise on his left bicep.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, trying to freeze in his memory the feel of her skin and her lips. By the time she had finished, his physical pain had been replaced by something deeper, something that hurt worse. He squeezed her hips and pulled her a fraction closer. "Don't leave, Steph."

She slid her arms over his shoulder and around his neck, hanging on. "I have to."

"Stay tonight."

Her tear-filled eyes stared back at him, and he watched as the first tear spilled over her lower lash. He reached up and touched it with his thumb. "Please?"

"Okay," she whispered.

His hands slid up her body to frame her face. He pulled her toward him and brushed his lips against hers. Catching her lower lip with his teeth, he gently bit down. When he slid his tongue across her lips he could taste the salty evidence of her tears.

"Don't cry, babe," he whispered against her lips. "It'll be okay."

"No it won't," she said. "Not without you, it won't be." She put her head on his shoulder and he could feel her tears on his skin.

He ran his hands over her hair and her back and every part of her that he could reach. "I'm sorry, Steph. I never wanted you to get hurt."

"I know." She sat up and looked at him. "I can't do this – I can't stay. I have to go."

He knew what she meant but wasn't saying: that if she didn't leave now she wouldn't. He could make her stay, fuck her until her tears dried up and she no longer had the power to walk away from him. But he wouldn't do that to her. He removed his hands from her hips, drawing them back inch by inch until he wasn't touching her at all.

Without another word, she crawled off his lap and walked away. He sat perfectly still until he heard the soft click of the door as she shut it behind her. Then he leaned his head back and stared up at the ceiling, regretting with every painful breath that he wasn't the man she deserved.

…

_Okay, I have officially climbed under my desk for cover, so feel free to throw things at me if necessary :) And have no fear, this is not the end of the ass kicking for our man in black. Let me know what you thought!! Please :) _


	7. Chapter 7

_Thanks for all the reviews for the last chapter. If I missed you in my replies, know that I sincerely appreciate it. There were several wonderful women who helped me get this chapter just right - thanks so much for your help and opinions! _

_Rating for language_

_All characters are property of JE and this is for amusement only_

…

_Four months later…  
_  
A banging noise woke Steph from sleep. She squinted at the clock for a minute – 2:44 – and tried to decide if it was worthwhile to get out from under the toasty covers. She raked through her mind: no stalkers, no kidnappers, no boyfriend. In other words, no one worth opening the door for this time of night.

She pulled the blanket over her head and tried to go back to sleep, sighing in relief when the banging stopped.

But she sat straight up when her bedroom window was jerked open and a shadow invaded the space.

"Bombshell, get up."

"Tank? What the hell?"

Without responding, Tank clambered through the too-small window, stepping on the edge of the mattress before landing on the floor. He started pulling dresser drawers open and threw underwear, a bra, and a pair of jeans at her before she even was fully awake.

"Come on, we gotta go fast," he said. "Get dressed."

A pit formed in her stomach at his tone. He sounded panicked. And Tank didn't panic.

That was all it took for her to know.

She couldn't have said how bad it was or how it happened or when. But she knew.

She jumped out of bed, and without wasting a second to think about modesty, she whipped off the shirt she was wearing as a nightgown and started pulling on the clothes Tank was throwing at her. She skipped socks and pulled on her boots, bouncing on the opposite foot, as they hurried to the front door.

The truck was still running. Tank handed her a travel mug of coffee before he put the truck into gear and roared out of her parking lot.

She sipped the coffee and watched out the window, expecting Tank to head for St. Francis. She glanced at him when he merged onto Route 1 instead.

The coffee in her stomach turned sour as he headed South and picked up I-95.

"Which hospital?"

Tank glanced at her, almost as if he were assessing how much to tell her, before saying, "They flew him to Penn."

The University of Pennsylvania Hospital had one of the best trauma centers on the East Coast. It wasn't knowledge that calmed her. "It's bad then," she said.

She didn't think he'd respond. But finally she heard him say, "Yeah. Real bad."

She dropped her head back on the headrest and closed her eyes, letting every word they'd exchanged, every look they'd shared over the past four months drift through her mind.

…

She had only seen him once, about a month ago.

She knew even the sight of him would undo all the progress she had made getting over him, so she was careful, with every movement, to avoid running into him.

"I have a plan to catch Gonzales," she said early one morning, rushing into the Bond's office. "Lula if you come—"

She stopped cold when she realized Ranger was standing in front of the desk. He turned and stared at her.

Her mouth fell open but no sound came out. She had forgotten to come late and avoid him. Forgotten that he might even be there. In fact, he hadn't even crossed her mind at all. She took a shallow breath through her nose and put her hand on the door handle to steady herself. The realization that she was actually healing, even moving on, hurt almost as much as seeing him did.

"What's wrong with you?" Lula said. "I know this is one fine looking man, but you look like you just saw a ghost."

Steph blinked at Lula. "Uh, yeah, um…" She frowned and looked back at Ranger.

He smiled at her, the edges of his lips tilting up. He motioned toward the alley with his head and held a hand out.

With a deep breath for courage, she reached for his hand.

…

Tank's phone rang, startling Steph into sitting up and opening her eyes. The cabin of the truck was silent, the only light coming from flashes under the street lamps.

"We're ten minutes out," Tank said into the phone. He hung up and turned to her. "He's in surgery."

She nodded, but didn't respond. She stared out the window. They were in Philly now, downtown, sliding under the overpasses and highways and buildings. She looked up at the lit-up skyscrapers, looming over them on all sides. It was eerie to see the city in such stillness, the usual bustle and noise replaced by a blanket of heavy clouds and dark skies.

Then suddenly they were rocketing up an exit ramp, and the hospital materialized in front of her. Here there was no stillness, but ambulance lights flashing, people rushing, a helicopter taking off and circling overhead. The same helicopter that had brought Ranger, she realized. She could see hospital personnel moving around inside the brightly lit lobby and the mammoth neon blue lettering spelling out UPenn across the top of the building.

…

"Babe," he had said after pulling her into the alley. He tugged on a curl. "How are you?"

She stared at him, drinking in the sight of him that she had missed so much, until she thought her heart would burst out of her chest. "I'm okay," she said.

"I miss you."

Her eyes opened wide in surprise. "You do?"

"Yeah." He tucked the curl he had been playing with behind her ear. His eyes kept running over her face, like he was trying to capture every bit of her.

…

"Sign here, here, and here," a nurse said, shoving a clip board at Stephanie.

Tank had barely gotten the words out – "The patient that was just flown in" – when the nurses started shoving forms at Steph.

She turned and looked up at Tank, not bothering to voice her question, knowing he would answer it anyway.

But before he could, the nurse gave a huffy sigh. "You _are_ Ms. Plum, are you not?"

"Yes, but—"

"Then you're next of kin. You have to sign these consent forms. Are you refusing medical care for Mr. Manoso?"

"No, of course not."

The nurse shoved the clipboard at her again and handed her a pen. "Then sign."

Steph looked up at Tank again. He took a step closer to her and rested a hand on the small of her back. "It's all routine, Steph. Go ahead."

She nodded, leaning back into Tank's touch, desperate for anything familiar and reassuring. She was lost in a haze of the surreal, too terrified to separate reality from anything else.

She picked up the pen to sign, but her hand was shaking too badly. She gripped the pen tighter an tried again, this time accomplishing it, though the signature looked almost as messy and lopsided as she felt.

Tank was watching closely over her shoulder. "Don't sign this one," he said, pointing. "It says the doctors can give him narcotics." Tank looked up at the nurse, his gaze intimidating. "His medical records specifically say no narcotics."

"Yes, but the Surgeons—"

"No narcotics."

The nurse blinked at Tank before nodding. She took the form back. "I'll tell the doctor."

Steph signed the rest without incident and handed the clipboard back to the nurse.

"The surgical waiting room is on the fourth floor. Someone will be in to talk to you as soon as they know anything."

Tank, still with a hand on Stephanie's back, led her toward the elevator.

…

He had reached up and touched her face, sliding his fingers along her cheekbones, her lips.

"I miss you too," she whispered.

"Yeah?" He took a step closer to her and rested his palm against her cheek.

She instinctively leaned into his touch and let her eyes drift closed. "Yeah," she said. "A lot."

His hand crept around to the back of her neck. She looked up at him and watched, unable to stop him, as he took the final step separating them and lowered his lips to hers.

…

As the hours crawled by, the lobby grew brighter and the sun started peeping through the windows. Someone brought her lunch, and she choked down what she could. Every off duty RangeMan employee had come in, many of them staying.

"His family?" she said to Tank.

Tank shook his head. "I never call until after we know for sure. Easier that way."

She studied him for a moment, trying to decide which way would be easier. Neither, actually. Either you sat for hours, waiting in paralyzing terror, or you didn't find out until it was too late. Either way was filled with 'what if's.'

"I'm glad you came and got me," she said.

Tank nodded.

…

His lips had touched hers. The sensations, missing for so long, stilled her mind and heart, allowing her to concentrate only on the texture and warmth of his lips. He pulled her closer, her entire body resting flush against his, as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers. It was a kiss that spoke not of loss and regret and all the things missing between them, but of the connection between them that neither of them could sever.

"I love you," he said, his lips brushing across her temple as he spoke. His arms tightened around her, anchoring her as tightly to him as possible. "You left too quick to give me a chance to say it, and I know it's not enough, but I wanted you to know."

She tipped her head back and smiled at him through a haze of tears. "I love you too."

…

"Ms. Plum?"

Fourteen hours after Steph had sat down in the waiting room, she looked up at the surgeon. She registered his exhaustion first: the shadows under his eyes, the stoop of his shoulders, the grim set of his mouth. Then she noticed the blood – the scrubs he was wearing were covered in it.

Ranger's blood.

She climbed to her feet and ignored the rushing noise she could hear in her ears and the way her hands were shaking.

"He made it out of surgery," the doctor said to her.

Her breath came out in a whoosh and her knees buckled. Lester caught her as she started to fall backward. She leaned back against him, needing the strength of someone else holding her up.

"Is he going to be okay?" she said.

"We won't know that until he regains consciousness. We were able to repair the damage to his internal organs, but he was without oxygen for quite a while, so there's always the possibility of brain damage. But given his excellent physical condition, I'd say at this point that we can be cautiously optimistic."

Steph nodded. She hadn't really followed the explanation, since she hadn't thought to ask Tank what had happened, but the word optimistic was ringing in her ears. She'd take it.

"Can I see him?"

The surgeon nodded. "We're just waiting now, so you can sit with him as long as you'd like."

She nodded again but didn't move from where she was leaning on Lester. She wasn't sure that her knees would carry her if she tried to step forward.

"Come on, Bombshell," Tank said. He held a hand out.

With a deep breath for courage, she reached for his hand.

…

_Let me know what you think! Steph forgot to ask what happened to him – any ideas? I can tell you that it had something to do with her :) Just a heads up, the next chapters may take me a couple days longer than usual to post, as they need some work, but they're coming (and we're past the worst of the angst – it's uphill from here)! Thanks for reading - haleigh_


	8. Chapter 8

_Thanks so much for all the reviews of the last chapter, and I'm sorry it took me so long to get this one posted. There are only two chapters after this, which should come a bit quicker!_

_Rating for language_

_I still don't own them, nor am I making any profit (damn on both counts :)_

…

Fifty-two hours, seven minutes, and thirty-one seconds after Tank woke her up and drove her to the hospital, and thirty seven hours after she sat down beside his bed, Ranger's eyes snapped open.

He looked directly at Tank. "How long have I been out?"

"Two days."

"Hannigan?"

"Dead. Guards at the door, both ends of the hall. Everything's secure."

Only then did he relax. His voice had been creaky, barely audible, but to her ears it had been beautiful. He shifted his head to the left and stared at Stephanie for a moment.

"Hi," she whispered. "How are you feeling?"

"Terrible."

She laughed, but it turned into a sob as tears filled her eyes. She clapped a hand over her mouth held her breath, trying to stop the tears, but one popped out and slid down her cheek.

Ranger frowned. He lifted his arm and brushed the tear away with his thumb. "I thought you were a dream," he said.

She sniffed and wiped the rest of her tears with the back of her hand. "What?" She dimly heard the click of the door as Tank left, but didn't take her eyes off Ranger.

"I thought—" his voice cracked before he could finish.

"Oh!" Steph grabbed a cup of water off the bedside table. She held the straw between his lips, letting him sip it. "Better?"

He nodded. "I thought I was dreaming you. I didn't think you were really here."

She skimmed a finger down the side of his face. "Of course I'm here. I love you. Where else would I be?"

He stared at her for a minute before opening his mouth.

But before he could say whatever it was, two nurses bustled in.

"We heard you're awake!" one chirped. "How are you feeling?"

The other started checking his pulse, examining the IV bag, doing all those medical chores that Stephanie hadn't even given a thought.

"Ms. Plum," one nurse said. "You'll need to step outside while we examine Mr. Manoso."

She nodded and started to stand, but Ranger grabbed her hand and pulled her back down. "She stays," he said, his voice somehow intimidating in spite its creakiness.

The two nurses exchanged a glance, but nodded.

Ranger threaded his fingers through Steph's and squeezed. She forgot all about the nurses bustling around or Tank waiting in the hallway or anything else. She just stared at him, at his beautiful face, his dark guarded eyes, that mouth.

She held his hand the whole time the nurses worked, and once they were gone, she shifted closer to him.

He raised a hand and rested it on the side of her face. "You know you're the most beautiful woman in the world, right?"

She smiled before she stood and started looking around, pretending to search the IV bags for something. "I refused to sign that form for narcotics. Did they slip some in here without—"

He tugged on her hand and she fell back into the chair. She grinned at him. "Thank you."

"I missed you so much," he said.

"Well, whatever pain meds they have you on are making you spill your guts."

He groaned and looked up at the ceiling. "Don't let me say anything else."

"No way," she said, laughing. "We're going to air this out, man of mystery."

His lips tilted up as he stared at her. "What do you want to know?"

She steadied her nerves and all silliness faded as she asked the question that had been running through her mind for four months. "Why did you let me walk away?"

"I shouldn't have," he said. "I've regretted it every day. But I wanted you to be happy and I all I did was hurt you. I couldn't stand to hurt you any more. I wanted you to have a chance at something real, and you couldn't have that if I was in the way."

She laced her fingers through his hand. "But all I ever wanted was you."

He closed his eyes and squeezed her hand. "Come back to me, Steph."

She smiled sadly at him and ran her fingers through his hair. "I can't."

"It'll be different, I promise. You can nag me, we can have a baby, whatever you want."

She blinked in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"I don't—" He squeezed his eyes shut for a second. "Sorry, I'm tired."

"Oh my god!" She jumped up and straightened the pillow behind his head. "You need to go to sleep." She had forgotten that he had been unconscious for two days. Not the time to be having deep emotional conversations.

"Wait," he said, "I want to—"

"Go to sleep," she said. "I'll be right here when you wake up. We'll figure it all out then."

Before the words were even out of her mouth, he was asleep. She brushed a kiss across his forehead and stepped out into the hall. Tank and Lester were standing in the hallway.

"He talking?" Lester said. "He says the craziest things on pain pills."

"Yeah, he's talking all right. Though I have no idea what about. Something about me nagging him and a baby."

Lester and Tank exchanged a glance. Lester was wearing a huge grin but Tank was looking uncomfortable, not to mention a little green around the gills.

"What am I missing?" she said.

"Last time he was on pain pills, he kept trying to propose to Tank."

Tank rubbed a hand over his bald head. "He thought I was you," he said to Steph. "It was right after you guys split up."

"Why was he on pain pills? Was he hurt?"

"Not badly. Broke an arm. Worst six weeks of my life – between you leaving and him being stuck on desk duty…" Lester trailed off and gave a theatrical shudder.

"He was upset that I left?" She was secretly thrilled, knowing that he had been as affected by their split as she had been.

"It's been a nightmare," Lester said. "I'm not just talking the bad moods. I still think I have some cracked ribs from a couple of those ass-kickings he called sparing practice."

Huh. Why hadn't he come after her if he was that upset by her leaving? She cocked her head to the side before asking Tank, "Do _you_ think he missed me?"

Tank glared at her. "I don't understand why I always get roped into conversations about people's feelings. Do I look like the kind of guy that enjoys discussing anyone's love life?"

"Sorry!" Steph said, laughing. She looked over at Lester. "Somebody's awfully sensitive."

Lester clapped Tank on the back. "Poor guy."

Tank glared at both of them and just walked away. Steph grinned and Lester and then motioned with her head to Ranger's room. "He's asleep. Do you think somebody can run me to Target or somewhere for some clothes? I don't want to go back to Trenton, but I would kill for a shower, and I think I can do that before he wakes up."

"Sure, Beautiful," Lester said. "I'll take you."

…

Ranger opened his eyes and blinked against the harsh hospital light. He turned his head a fraction to the right. Steph was curled up in a chair, sound asleep. He turned to the left, and found Tank in the other chair.

"How long has she been here?" he said.

"The whole time, man. The first time she left was while you were asleep this afternoon. Wouldn't even leave to get a cup of coffee. And you're an idiot, by the way."

"I know." He let his eyes drift back closed. He felt like shit. The pain he could handle – the fact that his head was muddled from the meds was driving him nuts. He couldn't hold on to a thought in his head.

It had been a junkie, a fucking junkie during a redecoration job, who came at him with a knife. Normally, Ranger wouldn't have blinked. He would have disarmed the fucker, tossed him out a window, and gone on with his day. Or simply shot him.

Instead, for probably the first time since he was eighteen, he had completely lost control and look where it had landed him.

"I know you," the junkie had said, brandishing an old rusty knife. "I know your bitch too. People talk, yes they do, yes sirree."

"Put down the knife, Hannigan," Ranger said. He started approaching, cautiously. He was alone in a back room with the junkie. Tank, Bobby and Lester were dealing with others in the front rooms.

"Do you know where that bitch is now? Bet you don't, bet you don't. I've heard stories. I heard that bitch tastes real sweet. Maybe I've even had myself a taste of her. How'd you feel about that?"

Ranger ignored Hannigan's words and focused on disarming him. Junkies this high were idiots – they thought they were bulletproof. They'd say anything, thinking if they could provoke a confrontation, they could win. Ranger had dealt with it all before. He took a shallow breath to block out the profanities the junkie was spewing about Steph and took two steps to his left and one toward Hannigan.

"Do you know where she is right now? Do you know if somebody's hurting her? Does she scream real loud?"

Ranger stiffened, but tried to not to show it. That was the one thing he could never stand – his one weakness – hearing Stephanie scream and being unable to fix it. And not having the surety in the back of her mind that she was safe and home was killing him. Over the past months, she had found and destroyed every tracker he had left on her.

"She was a hot bitch too. All those brown curls. I'll bet she's a screamer. Can you hear it? Can you hear her screaming?"

Something in Ranger snapped and oblivious to the knife, he lunged toward Hannigan. He got both hands wrapped around the junkie's neck before he felt the knife cut across his stomach and then his left forearm.

He reared back and caught Hannigan on the side of the head with the butt of his pistol. He should have just shot the guy then, but something in him needed the physical fight. Hannigan went halfway down but at the last minute, twisted his body and plunged the dull knife into Ranger's stomach.

Ranger got one shot off before he fell down, but he was a good shot. Hit Hannigan right between the eyes. He slid down the wall and looked at the hilt of the knife protruding form this abdomen. 

"Fuck," he said quietly. Tank and Lester burst into the room and started yelling and cursing, but Ranger couldn't follow anything they were saying. Tank knelt down and put a hand under the wound.

"Don't worry, man. Bus on the way."

"He said something about Steph," Ranger managed to say. "Make sure she's okay."

"Sure, man. Just hang on for another minute."

The next thing he remembered was the feel of her hands on his face and her voice. And then he woke up and she really was there, safe and sound, and right beside him. Where she belonged.

"You know you'd both be safer if you were together, right?" Tank said, breaking into his thoughts.

"Yeah."

"So, are you going to do something about it?"

Ranger tried to raise an eyebrow. "You actually talking about my love life, man?"

"Fuck no," Tank said, too loud.

Stephanie started and sat up, blinking in confusion. Her eyes focused on Ranger and she smiled, one of those smiles that made something in his chest ache. She reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it. "You feeling okay?" she said.

"Yeah, babe." He squeezed her hand back.

…

Steph stared blankly at the pages of a magazine once Ranger fell back asleep. The surgeon had been by and said he was healing nicely and the fatigue was normal. She was relieved, thrilled even, that he was going to be okay. But that also meant that she wasn't needed here anymore. She should go.

Because in spite of Ranger's medicine-induced ramblings earlier about getting back together, she couldn't allow herself to get sucked back into his force field. She still loved him, desperately, but she had finally felt like she was getting her life back together and she couldn't let go of that. She had sacrificed too much of herself to be with Ranger, and it had taken every ounce of strength she had to walk away from him. She couldn't go through it again.

She stood and stretched before walking back into the hallway. Tank and Lester were both sprawled in chairs. She stretched again and plopped down beside Lester.

"You still here?" Lester said, cracking one eye open.

"I'll probably leave after he wakes up again. The doctor seems to think he's out of the woods."

"Just let me know when and I'll drive you home," Tank said.

She nodded. "Thanks. I'm going to go get some food and another magazine from the gift shop."

Steph wandered down the hall to the elevator. A part of her hoped Ranger didn't bring the conversation back up. Because if he did, she was going to have to tell him no again, and frankly, she didn't know how many times she could.

…

Ranger woke slowly, but didn't open his eyes. He could hear Steph beside him, hear the slick pages of a magazine being turned, hear her laugh softly or snort at something she found ridiculous.

He was enjoying just lying there listening to her. He was guessing by the look on her face when the doctor had said he was going to be okay that she was ready to bolt. He wanted to hang on to her as long as possible.

He was pretty sure that earlier, he had said some things to her that he hadn't meant to say. But maybe that was for the best. He couldn't live like this much longer – he couldn't live without her _any_ longer – and if pain pills is what it took to get all the words out, then he'd take it.

He still couldn't believe that he was lying there in a fucking hospital. He couldn't believe he had actually lost control enough that he had fucked up that badly. Then again, he hadn't had control over his life since that damn distraction job almost a year ago, when he had frozen up listening to Steph scream.

He had kept thinking that if he controlled his relationship with Stephanie, if he could control his feelings and her actions, then he'd regain control over his life. But it hadn't worked that way at all.

When they weren't together, he drove himself crazy thinking about her, about where she was and if she were safe and who she was with. When they had been together, she had been holding back – they both had – and it just hadn't been enough. But to be together for real, that would require handing part of his hard earned control over to her. It would require making himself vulnerable.

There was just no win.

"I have absolutely no control over my life," he said out loud.

"Admitting you have a problem is the first step," Steph said without glancing up from her magazine.

Ranger cut his eyes toward her. He was having the biggest epiphany of his life, and she was making smart comments. "I'm serious."

The growl in his voice finally got her attention. She looked up at him. "Ranger, no one has control over their life. You can control aspects – your job, your career, sometimes your emotions. But you can't control everything. It's life – just live it."

He stared at her for a moment. All these years of trying to put parameters on their relationship – all these wasted years and she had the right answer all along. "Live it with me," he said softly.

She stared at him, her eyes huge. She started to open her mouth, but at that moment, Morelli stuck his head in the door. He glanced back and forth between them, at Ranger's glare and Steph stricken look. "Am I interrupting?"

…

_This really wasn't meant to be a cruel cliff hanger. But Steph needs some time to think before continuing her conversation with Ranger. She won't get over all he put her through that easily!_

_Thanks to __Rosaleen68__ who suggested a dull, rusty knife with which to kick Ranger's ass :)_


	9. Chapter 9

_Thanks so much for all the reviews of the last chapter! They're still not mine, rating still for language…_

…

_He stared at her for a moment. All these years of trying to put parameters on their relationship – all these wasted years and she had the right answer all along. "Live it with me," he said softly._

_She stared at him, her eyes huge. She started to open her mouth, but at that moment, Morelli stuck his head in the door. He glanced back and forth between them, at Ranger's glare and Steph stricken look. "Am I interrupting?"_

…

"Joe!" Steph said. She stood and walked toward him. "What are you doing here?"

Joe nodded his head toward Ranger. "Paperwork, actually. I need to go over what happened with Hanniagan."

"Can it wait?" Ranger said through gritted teeth.

"You can do it now," Steph said, desperate to get out of there before she did something idiotic. Like throw herself on Ranger. "I'll be in the hall." She dashed out of the room, ignoring the death glares she could feel coming from Ranger's direction.

She almost smacked into Tank's chest as she burst into the hallway. "Take me home?" she said.

Tank eyed her curiously but started to nod before they heard Ranger yell 'Tank!" from inside the room.

Tank shot a 'what the hell did you do now?' look toward Steph and stepped through the doors. When he came back out, he turned to Steph and said, "You're staying here."

"Oh, come on Tank. He can't get out of bed. What could he possibly do to you if you don't follow an order this one time?"

"He has a long memory."

Yeesh. Steph grimaced at Tank's tone. She cast a glance at Bobby and Lester, who were both also in the hallway. Both were staring at their toes. Guess a ride home was too much to hope for. With a dramatic sigh, she plopped into on the chairs. "Bunch a big scardy cats," she mumbled.

"That's not going to change our minds," Tank said.

"It should. I've got more guts than the three of you."

"Nice try, Bombshell," Lester said. "But not even close."

She finally gave up and resigned herself to being forced to talk to Ranger. She mentally cracked her knuckles. This was not going to go well.

Ten minutes later Joe stepped back out of the room and motioned to Steph to follow him down the hall. "He's in a bad mood," Joe said when they were out of earshot from the Merry Men.

"Uh, yeah. That may be my fault. Sorry."

Joe rolled his eyes. "Of course it was you. Only you could get a man that worked up."

"Thanks," she said, blowing out a breath. 

"How are you doing, anyway?"

"Uhh…" She glanced around the hallway and tried to figure out what the hell to say. Or figure out how she was doing, because her mind was too muddled by Ranger's words to even get that far. "I think I'm okay," she said.

"Well, whatever is going on with you two, I want you to be happy Steph. Please don't sell yourself short, or let him do it."

She smiled up at him and gave him an impulsive hug. "Don't worry, I won't. I've got it under control this time."

"Good." Joe kissed her cheek and kept walking down the hall to the elevator.

Steph walked back toward Ranger's room, feeling a bit stronger from Joe's words, and much more ready to face him. She was glad that they had been interrupted. Her first instinct had been to yell 'hell yeah!' forget everything that had happened, and simply deny her way right into a happy ending. But she had done too much growing up in the last four months to let Ranger back into her life like that.

She knew what she needed from a relationship now, and she knew she had the strength to walk away if he couldn't offer it.

"He wants to talk to you," Tank said, as soon as she approached them.

She took a deep breath and pushed through the door to his room.

"We didn't finish our conversation," Ranger said, the second the door closed behind her.

She shook her head and sat down in the chair beside his bed. "No, we didn't."

"I was serious, Steph."

"I'm sure you were. But that doesn't change the fact that I can't just come back to you." She took a deep breath and said the words she should have said months ago. "I deserve better."

He reached over and took her hand, threading her fingers through his own. "It will be better."

She leaned her head back and tried to ignore the feel of his fingers sliding over her own. "Do you know what I want out of a relationship? I want to be a part of someone's life. A part that's so necessary, so _important_, that I can't possibly be shut out of any other part."

"You are that important to me, Steph."

"You told your daughter not to contact me anymore! You told her I was too busy to see her."

When he didn't respond she whispered, "Why did you do that?"

He stared at her for a moment. "I thought I could keep control over my life by compartmentalizing everything. I could put my job in a little box, and you in a box, and Julie in another one, and my family in another one. I thought if I kept everything separate, I could control each piece. Instead, it all blew up in my face. You left, Julie will barely talk to me, I almost got killed by a junkie because I was trying to figure out if you were safe instead of actually doing my job, and every time my mother sees me she slaps me upside the head."

Steph bit down on her lip to keep from smiling. Poor Batman. She simply couldn't imagine him being scolded by his mother.

"This isn't funny," he growled.

"It's perfect." She smiled at him and took her first genuinely easy breath in months. Maybe he had learned something in the time they had been apart. But she had learned her lessons too, and they were putting it all out on the table now. "You're willing to consider a commitment?"

Ranger broke eye contact and shifted in the hospital bed. "Yeah."

She studied him. "I don't believe you."

Ranger didn't squirm. But he didn't lie either, and he didn't go back on his word. If he said he was willing to make a commitment, he would. "There are still aspects of a relationship that are going to be difficult for me, Steph."

"Is that what you were rambling about when you woke up?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Was I talking?"

"Yeah. Something about me nagging you and having a baby."

He sighed. "Yeah. That was part of it. I don't like being nagged, I certainly don't like having to answer incessant questions about where I am and where I'm going. I don't want kids and I don't want to get married. But what I'm trying to say, is that if that's what it takes for us to be together, than I'll deal with it."

Steph put a hand over her heart. "Hang on a minute. I need to remember this conversation. That's the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me." She rolled her eyes and glared at him. "You're an idiot."

"So I've been told."

"You really think that that's what will happen if we're in a relationship? Incessant nagging and a minivan?"

He looked away and shrugged. "That's how it usually goes."

"I cannot wait to meet your mother."

Ranger looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

She leaned over and smacked him on the head with the flat of her hand. "You idiot! We were together for months. Did I ever beg you for a baby or a wedding?"

"No, but—"

"No buts!" She smacked him again, this time hard enough to make him cringe. "God, and to think that you're the most intelligent man that I know. That's sad. Really"

"On top of all that other shit, I was also trying to protect you – remember all the people that are going to want to kill you?"

"That makes you a bigger idiot! I'm safer with you. And I don't want a baby. I don't want a wedding. You think I enjoy talking about my feelings and getting all mushy?" She stopped and cocked her head to the side. "You know, I can see where you would think that, what with all the sobbing and begging going on while we were together."

When he didn't answer she crossed her arms across her chest and tapped her foot. "Well?"

"Someday, Steph, you're going to want—"

"Ahh!" She threw her arms up in the air. "No, I'm not! And if for some godforsaken reason I decide I can't live without a baby, then I'll talk to you, and we'll make decisions about our future _together_. Hear how that works? We talk, and then make decisions together."

"If I agree will you stop smacking me? I was unconscious for two days, remember?"

Steph rolled her eyes and flung herself back in her chair. "I couldn't hurt you if I tried."

"You'd be surprised," Ranger mumbled. 

She blinked at sat up straight. "Did I actually hurt you? Does your head hurt now?"

He shot her an incredulous look. "I was talking about when you left, Steph."

"Oh." She leaned back in her chair and studied him. "I just couldn't stay. Surely you understand that."

"I do. And that's also what I'm trying to fix."

"It _is_ fixable," she said, "if you talk to me. If I start to smother you, or if I demand too much, just tell me. We'll work on it. We can make this work, Ranger, I know it. But we can't if you won't talk to me."

He stared at her for a moment. "I'm not good at talking, Steph."

"Big shock there," she mumbled.

The corners of his mouth twitched up in a smile. He reached over and pulled on her arm, brining her closer to the bed. She perched on the side of it and looked down at their entwined hands.

"I'll try, babe. You know that I never wanted to hurt you, right?"

She nodded, but didn't look up at him.

"Steph," he said, squeezing her hand until she finally looked up at him. "You're right. You deserve better than I gave you. And I have every intention of making it up to you. Just come home with me when I get out of here. We'll work on it, we'll figure it out. But I can't be without you any longer."

She took a deep breath and tried to sort through everything in her mind. But it was too new, too terrifying to think of what she stood to gain, and everything she stood to lose. "I'll give it a shot," she finally said. "I'm not promising I'll stay, but I'll come and we'll try."

He smiled at her, all two-hundred watts. "Okay."

…

Two days later, Ranger was released if he promised to stay in bed for another week. It took all the self control Steph had not to laugh when Ranger looked the doctor in the eye and agreed. There was no way he was staying in bed that long.

Tank had driven her to Trenton the day before, and she had packed a bag and dropped it off and Ranger's apartment. She had also left her car, in case she needed an escape hatch.

Once Tank drove them both back to the apartment for the final time, she stopped and looked around. She hadn't lived with him when they had been together before, and for some reason, the thought now was making her nervous.

She left Ranger lying in bed and filled a glass of water and set all the right pills on a tray: antibiotics, pain pills, anti-inflammatory meds. She knew he hated taking that many pills, but for once, he was just going to have to suck it up.

She turned around when she heard the apartment door open. Figuring it was Tank, she yelled hello.

But a strange face appeared around the corner. A very blank face. The man had a black crew cut and Hispanic features, and he wore army fatigues.

"Who the hell are you?" he said.

She had been smiling, assuming it was one of the guy's friends she hadn't met. Now she was more worried that an intruder had somehow slipped in. "Who the hell are _you_? And how did you get in here?"

"Tank let me in. And you can go now."

She crossed her arms. "I'm not going anywhere."

The man glared. "I don't know who you are, but I know that the last thing Carlos needs is his current snatch hanging around and playing nurse." He took a step closer and loomed over her. "You can go. Now."

…

_Just one more chapter to go! So do you think there's been enough groveling? Our favorite man has been beaten up, had his arm broke, gotten stabbed, and offered probably the most heart-felt apology he can manage to say. Do we need more:) _


	10. Chapter 10

_Thanks so much for all the reviews! I still don't own them, make no profit, blah blah blah. This is the final chapter, so thanks for reading all the way through!_

…

"_Tank let me in. And you can go now," he said._

_She crossed her arms. "I'm not going anywhere."_

_The man glared. "I don't know who you are, but I know that the last thing Carlos needs is his current snatch hanging around and playing nurse." He took a step closer and loomed over her. "You can go. Now."_

…

Steph was left standing there with her mouth open when the man spun around and stalked toward Ranger's bedroom.

"Hey asshole!" she yelled, chasing after him. "You can't just waltz in here and—"

But by then the man had Ranger's bedroom door open and had stepped through. She hurried after him, only to find Ranger, sitting up in bed, smiling widely.

"Marco!" Ranger said. "Nice to see you man."

Steph watched in shock as Marco shook Ranger's hand, his whole persona completely different than the terrifying man she had seen in the kitchen.

"How are you Carlos? Tank called and said you were laid up. Figured this would be a good time to come see everyone and see if I could pitch in."

"I'm always willing to let you pitch in, but I'll be back to work in a day or two."

From the doorway, Steph snorted. "You're staying in that bed a week, even if I have to tie you down."

Steph caught a glimpse of Ranger's wolf grin before Marco blocked her line of sight. "I thought I told you to leave," he said, his voice back to cold and menacing.

"Leave her alone," Ranger said. "She's fine."

Marco leveled a glare on Steph that normally would have her shaking in her boots. At the moment, it couldn't compare to the steam coming out of her ears.

"What exactly do you think you're relationship with Carlos is?" he said.

"Marco," Ranger said, his voice growing sharper, "leave her alone." Ranger and Marco stared each other down for a moment before Ranger turned to her, moving his head so he could see her around Marco's bulk. "Steph, can you give us a minute?"

Her eyes widened. "Seriously?"

"Please babe?"

She stared at Ranger for a moment, entirely befuddled by who this man was and what was happening. "Sure," she finally said. She stepped out of the bedroom and closed the door behind her with a shaky hand. Who the hell was this guy? Ranger never let anyone get away with talking to her like that.

She walked back into the kitchen and grabbed the tray with Ranger's water and medicine and headed back for the bedroom. That should be plenty of time for Ranger to set this asshole straight.

…

"Who sent you?" Ranger said as soon as Stephanie was gone. "Mama or Celia?"

"Mama did, little brother. And don't think you can get rid of me."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Ranger said dryly. "And that's Stephanie you just ordered out of here, by the way, not some hooker I've got stashed away."

"I know who she is."

Ranger raised an eyebrow in surprise. "And you think I'm going to let you talk to her like that?"

"Look bro," Marco said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I know Mama is convinced that Stephanie hung the moon and is your last chance at salvation and all that. But Tank told me what went down. You've got your head so far wrapped up in this little white girl that you almost got yourself killed. This job doesn't allow for relationships, Carlos. You know that."

"Maybe it's a risk I'm willing to take."

"What about when she gets hurt? Or if she gets kidnapped and you have to be reasonable while looking for her? Or when she wants to get married. Or when she wants kids – what the hell are you going to do then?"

Ranger rested the back of his head against the headboard. "I've been over all of that Marco. She had I have both been over it. You're not going to talk me out of it." Not that he had finally gotten her back. Not now that he knew what his life was like when she wasn't in it. There was nothing Marco could say to make him go back.

"This is a bad idea. You're going to end up getting both of you killed. Is it going to be worth it then?"

Ranger didn't respond, knowing it would just piss his brother off further. But he knew without a doubt, finally, that the answer was yes. No matter what the consequences were, she would always be worth it.

But realizing he was never going to get Marco to shut up by trying to convince him, he decided to try lying instead. "It's not that big of a deal Marco. It's barely a relationship. You don't have to worry."

"It is a big deal," Marco said, raising his voice. "You were almost killed."

"I'm fine. Just go," Ranger said, his anger starting to get the best of him.

"I'm not going anywhere. You have to call this off!"

Ranger raised his voice, something only his older brother who lived to torture him could make him do. "Christ, Marco! It's not like I'm in love with her. It's just sex. Now get the fuck out!"

…

Stephanie waited outside the door. She could hear muffled voices, but couldn't figure out what they were saying. It wasn't until Ranger raised his voice that she could make out his words. She stood there and listened to his shouted words and could have sworn she felt the world shift under her feet.

She put a hand to her chest and took a step backwards. Then another. The pain didn't hit until she tried to take a breath. Then it seared through her, the kind of pain that could only coming from knowing you had handed her heart over to a man who had never even wanted it.

She took another step backwards and glanced around for a place to set down the tray she was carrying. She had to leave. She didn't know where she was going, but she had to get out of that apartment.

She finally just set the tray on the floor and walked toward the door. How could he say it was just sex? He told her he loved her. She spent days sitting by his bed, taking care of him. He had wanted her to stay, and it was just sex?

The cool metal of the doorknob filtered through her hazy mind. She stared down at her hand, ready to open the door and get out of there. And she should go. She should leave without making a scene, keep her dignity, make a graceful exit, all that.

But he lied to her! He told her he loved her and he didn't. No man should be able to get away with that.

"Fuck a graceful exit," she said out loud.

She marched back toward the bedroom. The tray with his medication and water was still sitting on the floor. Barely slowing, she scooped it up. She could still hear yelling coming from the bedroom, but she didn't stop to figure out what they were saying. She threw open the door, causing both men to abruptly stop.

She turned to Marco first. Blood was rushing through her face, heating it. She could hear a ringing in her ears, and the tray was rattling her hands were shaking so badly. But she had a lot to say, and none of that was going to stop her.

"I don't know who you are and I don't care. My relationship with Carlos is none of your fucking business. If you ever speak to me again the way you did, you will regret it, even if Carlos can't be bothered to defend me.

"And you!" she said, turning to Ranger. She dumped the tray – water, medicine and all – in his lap. "Just sex? That's all I am to you? I wouldn't have wasted so much time praying for you to wake up if I'd known that. I hope you get some terrible infection and your heart rots from the inside."

She was half way to the door when she turned back and threw her hands up in the air. "Oh I forgot. You don't have one!"

"Stephanie," Ranger said, his voice low, intimidating enough that it would usually stop her in her tracks.

Not this time. "Fuck off, asswipe," she said. She slammed the bedroom door shut behind her, then the apartment door. As soon as she was in the elevator, she started rummaging through her purse. When the doors slid open into the garage, she had pepper spray in one hand and her stun gun charged and ready in the other.

She counted two steps out of the elevator before the stairway door flew open and Tank came barreling out. He skidded to a stop directly in front of her.

"Try it," she said, tightening her grip on the stun gun. "There's enough volts in here to drop you like a bug."

Tank raised one eyebrow and his mouth quirked up into a smile. "Bomber, maybe you should just calm down before—"

"Don't tell me to calm down!" She raised the pepper spray. "How far do you think this stuff sprays?"

"I've been sprayed enough that it won't buy you much time." He took another step toward her, and before she could blink, had taken both the pepper spray and stun gun from her.

She crossed her arms and glared at him. "What are your orders? Drag me back upstairs so he can keep using me? No thanks. I'm going home, and you can't stop me."

Tank's smile disappeared. "Just come back up, Steph. I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding. He loves you."

She sucked in a breath and her eyes filled with tears. Those three little words were enough to make her anger drain away and the pain come rushing back so strong she struggled to stay on her feet.

"No he doesn't," she whispered. "I thought he did, but—" She stopped and squeezed her eyes tight shut. When she opened them she had to blink away the tears. "Please don't make me go back up there, Tank."

He studied her a minute before he finally nodded. He dropped her weapons back in her purse for her, and with a hand to her back, guided her to her car. "Want me to drive you?"

She shook her head. She started to climb into the car, but instead turned and leaned up on her tiptoes to wrap both arms around Tank's neck. "Thanks." She dropped her arms and got in the car before he could reply.

…

Ranger sat in the office in his apartment, wincing in pain as he leaned forward to rewind the security feed from the garage. He pressed play and watched it again. Fuck. Using his laptop, he pulled up the tracker on her car. She had gone home. Good.

"I need you to drive me over there," he said to Tank.

"Look man. I don't want to get in the middle of whatever this is, but maybe you should give her some space."

"Drive me over there," he said, anger and panic making him enunciate every word.

Tank shook his head. "You've been fucking this girl over for months, man. And she's a good girl. Give her some space." He turned and walked out.

Ranger stared at the empty doorway. The pain that had been centered at the stab wound in his lower ribs was growing, radiating through his entire chest and seeping into his heart.

He had to get to her, that was all there was to it. He knew, without being able to say how he knew, that if he didn't go fix this now, he would never get the chance. And that was a risk he wasn't willing to take. Not after he finally realized how badly he needed her in his life.

Losing her now was simply not an option.

He levered himself out of his chair, biting his lip against the pain, and stumbled into the living room. Marco was standing in the kitchen.

"Get the fuck out," he said.

Marco raised his hands. "Just trying to help, man. Somebody needs to be the voice of reason here."

"What you need is to get out," he said.

Marco walked toward the door. "I'll go hang out with the guys. You throw your life away if you want."

"Marco," Ranger yelled to his retreating back, "if you ever speak to Steph like that again, brother or not, I will kick your ass."

Marco waved over his shoulder and kept walking. Ranger waited until he heard the stairway door bang behind Marco, then walked toward the front door. He grabbed his keys and climbed into the elevator, scrambling cameras as he went so no one would stop him.

He made it to his truck before he had to stop and gasp for air. Jesus, he thought, closing his eyes against the wave of pain. He had forgotten how badly knife wounds hurt.

He managed to get the keys into the ignition and the truck in reverse. Maybe driving hadn't been a good idea. But he was desperate. And if this is what it took to keep Steph, then this is what it took.

His cell phone rang, but it was Tank, so he ignored it. It rang again – Lester this time – so he turned it off. He knew what he was doing and he wasn't about to let anyone stop him.

Easing into traffic, he headed for her apartment, fighting off the pain with every breath. He pulled into her apartment, sighing with relief, and gingerly climbed out of the truck. He forgot he was barefoot until his feet hit the cold pavement. He didn't have a shirt either, because of the sling, and his sweatpants were wet where Steph had dumped water on him. He hadn't noticed any of it. Oh well – too late now. He shivered and walked as fast as he could manage toward her door.

…

She was sitting on her couch, staring ahead at nothing when he walked in. The room was dim, lit only by the fading daylight still seeping in. Ironic, really, she thought. Same scene as their last break-up, just a different apartment. Somehow, though, this one hurt worse.

"Steph," he said, coming closer.

"Go away," she whispered.

"It was a misunderstanding, that's all."

"You didn't say 'it's just sex'?"

"I was lying, babe. You have to know that."

She snorted. "You were lying then, or you're lying now?"

"Stephanie," he said. His voice was sharp enough that her head came up and she met his eyes. "I was saying what he wanted to hear, so he would leave. So we could have our privacy and so you didn't have to deal with him. He won't bother you again."

"Well good. No more Marco. I'm happy for you." She waved her hand goodbye at him.

"If you want me to leave I will. It's your choice, babe. What do you want?"

"I want you to love me!" she yelled, jumping up from the couch and finally breaking free of her stupor. She stopped directly in front of him and poked a finger toward his chest. "I want to be important to you and I want you to let me into your life. You can't cut corners in a relationship, Ranger. You're either in it or you not. And if you're not, you need to leave."

"And if I am?"

She stopped ranting and stared up at him. She was still trying to work though his meaning in her mind when she noticed how white his skin was and how badly he was shaking.

"Oh my god, sit down." She carefully tugged him toward the couch and made him sit. He leaned back and closed his eyes, taking shallow breaths, and rested one hand over his ribs.

"Thanks," he said.

She sat on her knees on the cushion beside him, leaning over him and studying his face. "How did you even get here? You should be in bed."

He opened his eyes and looked at her. "Tank wouldn't bring me so I drove myself."

"You drove here? You shouldn't have driven. Why did you do that?"

"Stephanie," he said, taking her face in both hands so she was forced to hear every word. "I would have gone to the ends of the earth if I had to. You're not walking away from me this time."

Her eyes filled with tears as she stared at him. "I'm not?" she whispered.

He shook his head. "No."

"You and me, Steph, what we have is something special. Neither of us is letting it go again. Neither of us is holding back, and neither of us is walking away."

He let his fingers slide down her face and rest on her shoulders. He pulled her to him until her lips were only a breath away from hers. She closed the gap to kiss him, her tongue sliding between his lips.

She smiled at him. "I think I can live with that."

His expression stayed serious as he stared at her. "Me too." He pulled her back for another kiss, threading his fingers through her hair. "Do you know how much I love you?" he whispered.

"Show me."

He smiled at the challenge and pulled her closer, but groaned when her elbow smacked him square in the ribs.

"Oh shit," Steph said, pulling away from him. "I forgot how bad you're hurt. We can't even have sex."

"Babe. I will fuck you if it kills me," he said through gritted teeth.

She laughed and nudged his shoulder. "No way. I didn't spend days by your bedside just to have you to drop dead halfway through sex now."

He raised an eyebrow. "So you've stopped praying for, what was it, my heart to rot from the inside out?"

She gave a dramatic sigh. "I guess you can live."

"Thanks. That was a pretty good insult, by the way. Is that the kind of stuff you used to scream at Morelli?"

Steph laughed. "Yeah. Consider yourself lucky that this is the first time I've been pissed off enough to use that anger on you."

Ranger raised an eyebrow. "This is the first time you've been upset with me?"

"Hell no. This is just the first time my anger has overruled my fear of retaliation. And besides, you're bedridden. How much damage could you do?"

"Steph," he said softly. "I don't ever want you to be scared of me."

"I'm not now. Haven't been for a while, actually," she said. Then she grinned. "Of course, it's hard to be scared of a man who shows up in February without a shirt or shoes or a coat—"

He glared at her.

"I'm kidding," she said, leaning her head on her shoulder. "I love you for it, you know. I needed that – needed the proof that you meant what you were saying. I wanted to believe you at the hospital, but then with Marco, I just wasn't sure…"

"You're sure now?" he said. "Forever sure?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"No more walking away?"

She shook her head and leaned up to kiss him gently. "Never again."

"Good." He ran his fingers through her hair. "I love you, babe."

She tipped her head back and smiled at him through a haze of tears. Happy ones this time. "I love you too."

…

The end.

Thanks for reading!


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